Pacifist
by Chailyn Cole Runewood
Summary: A Wiccan's spell goes wrong, and she winds up as a Saiyan at Capsule Corp. Since she's never seen DBZ, however, Chessa doesn't have a clue what to expect. Trunks/OC
1. Take Care in Casting

**Pacifist**

Chapter 1—Take Care in Casting

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

_Many things in life must change;  
Take me now to somewhere strange._

_Let those in this place have power  
That they not think me odd an hour._

_Though I a stranger there will be,  
Let them accept me for me._

_If any change in me be made,  
Let it be in body, not in my head._

_Lady, grant this boon to me;  
Through thy power so mote it be.

* * *

_

Her casting cleared away, Chessa Ohanzee closed the door to her workroom and locked it carefully. It wasn't much of a workroom—little more than a broom closet—but it was all she had. Her parents tried so very hard to accept her beliefs, but she could tell every time they looked at her that they thought that what she was doing was Satanic.

Eventually every look from her parents cutting her to the quick became too much, and Chessa had sought out a solution to her problem. Spells could change others' views, but those also did harm, and so were against the Rede she lived her life by. In the end she had found the perfect spell. It could very well take quite some time before it was effective, but she could and would wait.

The spell had called for change, but had not demanded the change be immediate. It called for acceptance, but did not define who should accept her. It called for a path to peace, but left her to find it on her own. It was not the easiest way out, but it was the only one she had found that she felt could help without breaking the Rede or setting her path too firmly.

Upon leaving her room, Chessa's expectations were shattered. Upon stepping through the doorway she had entered not the hall outside her bedroom, but a hall that was completely foreign to her. She turned, half hoping to see the familiar bedroom behind her, but the room she had just exited appeared to be a little-used storeroom. In a way that the unfamiliar hall had not, the sight of the storeroom brought a rising fear with it. Something had happened that she hadn't intended.

Closing her eyes, Chessa braced herself against the wall behind her and spent several moments simply breathing. Once she had herself more grounded, the girl opened her eyes and started tentatively down the hall. It didn't take long before she found an open door. She entered, hoping to find something familiar, and found only a bathroom that she had never seen before. When she looked in the mirror, the sight that greeted her was equally foreign.

Long deep brown hair fell to her hips in gentle waves, auburn and sun-gold highlights playing through it in the sunlight that spilled through the opened window. Her eyes sparkled like night-dark topaz in a fair face that had been palely gilded by the sun. She was dressed in something like the light white robe she worked in, but it was somehow even thinner, clinging to a buxom yet perfectly toned form she had never possessed in a way her robe never had. What was more, as she stood staring in the mirror, a silken tail the same color as her twilight hair came into view over her shoulder.

At the sight of the tail, Chessa fainted.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is a SPOOF on the Dragon Ball Z fanfiction I have seen and I do not want it taken any other way. If you enjoy the story, well, I am something of a story-spinner. If not, well, try to enjoy the humor in it. Either way, review and let me know what you think. Responses to reviews and notice of updates can be found at http/updatesandresponses. 


	2. What am I?

**Pacifist**

Chapter 2—What am I?

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

"Who do you think she is?"

"I don't have a clue. I found her like this in the bathroom."

"And she's full Saiyan?"

"As Saiyan as you are, Vegeta."

"How d'you think she got there?"

"You're the one who found her! Why would I know?"

"Maybe because you're usually the one who has some sort of answer in situations like this."

Chessa whined softly, shifting under the sheet that was pulled up to her chin, and then her deep brown eyes fluttered open. Her left arm was outside her bedding, a needle stuck into it that was attached to an IV beside her in the white room she woke in. She tried to sit, but her head was pounding enough that the attempt made her too dizzy to hold herself up.

In an instant, three figures came into view. One was a short, muscular man with black hair that stood on end, ending in a point that would have been well above her head had she been standing. The second was a woman of similar age with brilliant blue eyes, her bobbed hair matching, the short red dress she wore showing off a slenderly feminine body. Something about the way that she stood, and somehow something about how the pair _smelled_, made Chessa certain that they were lovers—though the word didn't seem strong enough.

The third figure was tall and as muscular as the first with lavender hair that fell to his shoulders and eyes that would be the same color had they not been so intense. With his eyes undeniably on _her_, Chessa felt as though he somehow knew more about her than he had any right to. His gaze was frightening, as frightening as the look on the black-haired man's face should have been.

"Who are you?" the short man demanded.

"Chessa Ohanzee," she answered weakly past her pounding head, attempting to focus on him more to keep her eyes from drifting back to the lavender haired boy than anything. "Where am I?"

The woman gave Chessa a look that was half suspicion and half pity. "You're at Capsule Corp."

"Where?"

"It's the biggest company on Earth, Chessa."

"I would know . . . if something was that big."

"How long have you been on Earth?"

Chessa attempted to focus on the dark haired man again. "All my life. I was born here. I'm nothing out of the ordinary. Just—just human." Even as she said it, Chessa remembered seeing a tail over her shoulder in the mirror. Closing her eyes, Chessa pushed herself up. Her headache was dwindling; she felt almost back to normal. Better than normal—she felt stronger. Fitter.

Swinging her long legs—especially long for someone barely five feet five inches tall—over the side of the bed, Chessa dropped her feet to the floor and padded over to the mirror she could see on the wall, ignoring the woman's protests. Despite her own views on the subject, something inside Chessa brushed this woman off as unimportant, her protests silly at best. As she looked into the mirror, the same image greeted her as had in the bathroom. Rich, dark brown hair to her hips instead of a mouse-brown bob. Dark topaz eyes in place of gray-blue. A light golden tan in place of a multitude of tiny freckles. A body she had no right to, full breasts and curves on a spare, well-muscled and only lightly padded frame. That robe, that clinging white robe that was so like her work robe while at the same time being nothing like it. And that tail: slender, elegant, dark and sleek. Carefully, Chessa moved her tail, first in a slow swish and then in increasingly delicate movements until she had determined that it was indeed prehensile.

Turning to the others, her fierce dark eyes locked with the unwavering stare of the lavender haired boy. For the first time she noticed the tails that he and the other man both sported. "Who are you and what am I?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is a SPOOF on the Dragon Ball Z fanfiction I have seen and I do not want it taken any other way. If you enjoy the story, well, I am something of a story-spinner. If not, well, try to enjoy the humor in it. Either way, review and let me know what you think. Responses to reviews and notice of updates can be found at http/updatesandresponses. 


	3. Being Saiyan

**Pacifist**

Chapter 3—Being Saiyan

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

"So you're Trunks Briefs."

Trunks nodded, his subtle expression shouting his amusement.

"And the other two are your parents, Vegeta—who happens to be the Prince of all Saiyans—and his mate, Bulma Briefs."

"That's right."

"And I'm Saiyan."

Once more, Trunks nodded.

"Bull shit."

Trunks smirked, amused by Chessa's denial of the obvious. Even without his mother's genetic test, the fact that the woman who had somehow appeared in the building that was Capsule Corp. Headquarters and also his family's home was Saiyan was undeniable. From her scent to her tail, the was a perfect match for everything that it was to be Saiyan. At the same time, she so obviously was nothing like any Saiyan he or his father had ever met that it was amazing. For one thing, Saiyans as a rule took out their frustration through violence. Chessa showed the classic signs of frustration, but at the same time was showing no tendency towards violence.

"It doesn't matter what or where you were born," Trunks finally answered. "Somehow you're here now, and you're Saiyan. There's no use denying it."

Chessa snorted. "Of course there's use in denying it. If I deny it long enough, maybe it will go away and I'll wake up to discover this is all a bad dream."

Trunks couldn't help but shake his head at Chessa's stubborn insistence. She was Saiyan, and yet she denied it with such fervor he could almost believe that she wasn't. "So you say you're not Saiyan. Well, then, what's the last thing you remember before you were here?"

"I had just finished casting a spell," she said promptly, her eyes flashing in defiance as she lifted her chin proudly, the arrogance of her posture screaming that she was exactly what he said she was.

"What was this spell supposed to do?"

"It was supposed to . . ." her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"I think . . . I think that I might have been a little careless."

"Careless."

Chessa nodded, rubbing the tip of her nose in embarrassment. "The wording . . . fits what seems to have happened. 'Take me now to somewhere strange' . . . 'Let those in this place have power' . . . 'If any change in me be made, Let it be in body' . . . it all fits. It all fits what's happened here. The spell worked, just not in the way I expected it to. It brought me here, made me Saiyan . . . and dumped me with other Saiyans, who wouldn't think twice about me having any sort of power, because you have power of your own."

Trunks's smirk returned. "So you're here because you asked to be."

"Sort of. I was just hoping for something along the lines of finding a Coven to join when I went to college this fall. I just wasn't very clear in my meaning when I worked out the spell. I guess I was more worried about whether or not it rhymed properly."

Trunks laughed, shaking his head. "So you're here because you wanted to make sure your spell rhymed?"

"Pretty much." Chessa glared as Trunks kept laughing. "It's not that funny! It says in the Rede that spells are supposed to rhyme so they'll have more power behind them! Seriously, I don't know what you find so funny about it—you seem happy enough to have me here!"

Trunks smirked, shaking his head at Chessa's ignorance. "Do you know how few Saiyans there are? Two full blooded Saiyans. Four half. One quarter. Any you. You're the only unattached full-blood Saiyan left anywhere and the only female with Saiyan blood other than my little sister and little Pan. Even my father's pleased, and it takes a lot to make him happy! There are now seven people who can claim to be Saiyans, even if four of us are only demi-Saiyan."

Chessa gave Trunks an odd, unreadable expression, staring at him incomprehensibly for several moments before finally speaking in a voice with a hint of what could possibly be curiosity. "And how did this occur?"

Trunks snorted. "You've been Saiyan long enough to know we're violent."

"So basically you killed yourselves off," she said flatly, her eyes concealing a great deal of emotion.

"Not exactly. Most of our people were killed on Vegeta-sei when Freeza destroyed the planet to punish my father for failing to destroy Earth. The few survivors . . . well, most were killed in the attempt. My father is the only one who remembers Vegeta-sei."

"I see. Still, violence led you to this end; it is no more than you deserve."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know enough Wiccans to know that not all take the charge "If it harm none, do what ye will" past the use of the Craft. It seems to be ideal, however, for Chessa to be one of those who believes that pacifism is called for by her belief system.

Thanks to my darling sister, A Watcher, for reviewing. Responses to any reviews I choose to respond to and notice of updates can be found at the blog I've created for such things, updatesandresponses(dot)blogspot(dot)com


	4. Teaching

**Pacifist**

Chapter 4—Teaching

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

Chessa sighed, her arms twisted behind her as she winded her long hair into an intricate bun. Trunks was smirking at her from his place against a tree, supposedly watching his little sister, the spoiled little princess that was pestering Chessa with questions. 

"Daddy says that you're Saiyan but you don't fight. How do you not fight? Even Goku fights."

"I don't believe in violence," Chessa answered with a strained smile.

"But you're _Saiyan_!" Bra insisted.

"So I am."

"Saiyans _fight_."

"You're a demi-Saiyan, aren't you."

"Yes," the seven-year-old girl answered arrogantly. "I'm the Princess of All Saiyans, so you should do what I say!"

"Wrong," Chessa said with a small smirk.

"Nu-uh!"

"Your father may be the Prince of All Saiyans, but he was never crowned King. And while you and your brother get to be Prince and Princess, anyway, it's your older brother who's the heir."

Bra looked distinctly taken aback by that. "But Daddy _says_ I'm the princess!"

"So you are. Anyway, you're demi-Saiyan and you don't fight."

"Daddy won't let me."

Chessa smiled softly at the quiet display of affection—and protective behavior—that was the Prince of All Saiyan's refusal to allow his daughter to fight. "My parents wouldn't mind, but my Goddess wouldn't like it."

"Goddess?"

Chessa nodded. "I'm Wiccan. I can do whatever I want, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else. And fighting . . . there's nothing to fighting except hurting other people."

The little girl seemed taken aback by the prospect of a deity demanding something like that from their followers. "Then why are you Wiccan?"

"Because I believe in it. I believe in pacifism. I believe in the Earth. I believe in the Goddess. I believe in her power."

"Power?"

Chessa shook her head softly. "Energy is a better word, but energy set into motion . . . well, perhaps power is then an apt description."

"Can I learn?"

For a long moment, Chessa was silent, studying the child. Bra wanted power, not anything else. But if she stuck with it, then it would be from a true devotion to the Goddess, for no child would willingly learn a religion and stick to its code without belief. Not for long. Finally, she nodded. "I'll teach you, Bra, but on one condition."

"What is it?"

"First I am going to teach you the Wiccan Rede. Just the simple version, not the long version. While the nuances of what, exactly, the Rede requires are up to you to determine, if you _ever_ undeniably break the code I will _never_ teach you anything more."

The girl thought about it. "Does that mean that I can't hit Trunks?"

"No. I read it that way, but not everyone does. But if you decided it does mean that, then you can't."

"Oh." She was silent for another moment. "Teach me."

Chessa smiled. "Happily, little one."

"So, what's the Rede?"

Chessa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Bide the Wiccan Law ye must,  
"In perfect love and perfect trust.  
"Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill:  
"An it harm none, do what ye will.  
"An ever mind The Rule of Three:  
"What ye send out comes back to thee.  
"Follow this with mind and heart,  
"An merry meet and merry part."

"That's it?"

"That's the short version. There's a longer one. Several translations of a longer one. It's generally speaking just guidelines for life, but 'and it harm none' and the Rule of Three are fairly central." Bra nodded. "Now, I want you to go get yourself a notebook or a diary or something," Chessa told the girl. "Then I want you to write the Rede in it and memorize it."

Bra nodded again, running off to do as her new teacher said.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Responses to any reviews I choose to respond to and notice of updates can be found at the blog I've created for such things, updatesandresponses (dot) blogspot (dot) com 


	5. Vegeta's Thoughts on the Matter

**Pacifist**

Chapter 5—Vegeta's Thoughts on the Matter

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them. So Chessa is mine, but Trunks and Vegeta and Bulma and Bra … not mine. Savvy?

**Author's Note:** Thanks to Thomas Drovin for reviewing every chapter of this story! Reviews get me/keep me moving. Chapter five is dedicated to Thomas.

* * *

Chessa hadn't expected Bra to remain interested for any length of time, but as the weeks past the girl remained persistent in her learning. After the lesson that marked the princess's first month of study, the young priestess started to hope that, perhaps, her pupil would in fact complete her year and a day of study and be inducted as a priestess and witch herself. 

Smiling softly to herself, the young Saiyan woman pulled her braid over her shoulder, smoothing it over her chest as she traveled down the halls by memory; after living at Capsule Corp. for a month and a half she did not have to think to find her way in the paths she often used. She wasn't really looking where she was going, fondly remembering Bra's insistence durring the lesson they had just completed that hitting her brother wasn't harming him, just hurting him, and that wasn't the same thing at all. The difference between "hurt" and "harm" wasn't something that she had expected the young girl to realize; it had taken her some time to realize it herself.

Lost in indulgent reminiscing, the girl barely had time to register the scent of her rapidly approaching attacker before she was lifted rudely from her feet and pinned to the wall by her throat. Gasping in an attempt to refill the lungs her barbaric contact with the wall had emptied, Chessa's fear-widened chocolate eyes met the dangerously narrowed night black glare of Prince Vegeta. His tail lashing in cat-like fury, he growled out a blunt order.

"Stay away from my daughter."

As her heels scrabbled at the wall behind her, the pacifist's hands rose to claw at the wrist of the single hand it took the Prince of All Saiyans to keep her secure against the wall. "I'm not—hurting her!" she panted out, struggling for freedom, for air. "She—asked me—to teach—and I just—did—as she asked."

"She's your princess," Vegeta snapped, "but you are less worthy to be called Saiyan than even Kakarrot!" His free hand was behind her, and an uninvited—but very pleasant—hand was on her tail near the base. Then the pressure tightened, the Prince squeezing the base of her tail as if to rip it off. "Stop feeding her your stupid human drivel!"

"I—promised—" she wheezed, somehow more terrified by the threat to her tail than the growing difficulty in breathing. "She hasn't—broken the Rede—"

"Father! If you damage her, your plans will be ruined."

The grip on her throat slackened slightly, the hand on her tail disappearing completely. Vegeta's glare turned to his son, Chessa taking advantage of what she was sure would only be a moment's respite to try and regain some air. The growl seemed somehow less deadly as he spoke to his son. "She's corrupting Bra."

"I've been there when she's teaching Bra a few times, father." Even with her eyes closed as she panted for breath, she could hear Trunks rolling his eyes in his tone. "Bra asked to learn, and Chessa doesn't _make_ her do anything. She lets Bra decide everything for herself. Besides, Bra deciding that picking fights is wrong hardly matters, since you won't let her fight anyway. You're just sore because your little princess said you shouldn't pick on Goku. If you're worried about Bra, train her. As for Chessa, the fact that she's a little wrongheaded about some things doesn't change her blood."

Chessa felt the hand tighten around her throat; she was sure she was going to die. A moment later, however, she was flying through the air, having been tossed like a kitten thrown by a wolfhound. Strong arms caught her, and she weakly opened her eyes to see Vegeta's departing glare. "She's your responsibility. Keep her in line."

Trunks slowly lowered the young woman in his arms to her feet, holding her firmly by her shoulders to keep her upright, his touch shockingly gentle after his father's callous handling. She would be fine now, she was safe—she promptly burst into tears.

For a moment the younger Saiyan prince looked unsure, and then he wrapped his arms around her in a protective embrace. She sobbed for a long while as he ran a hand soothingly over her back; despite the fact that she was soaking his shirt, he found he enjoyed having her in his arms. He lost track of time as he held her, relishing in the feel of holding her, until eventually her sobs slowed, then stopped. For a long moment after she fell still and silent against him Trunks kept her in his arms, then reluctantly released her and stepped back slightly.

Chessa's face was red and blotchy from crying, her nose dripping just a touch, but somehow it didn't detract from her beauty at all. "Your tail," he said awkwardly, wishing his own hormones weren't urging him to give in to his father's plot. "I noticed he—may I make sure it was not damaged?"

Her curiosity at Trunks' sudden stiffness evident in her eyes, Chessa nodded slightly. "I was so scared he was going to tear it off," she said in a tiny voice, her eyes on the floor between them, carefully not mentioning that her attacker had been Trunks' father. "It seems silly, but … I was even more scared of that than I was that he might just kill me."

"He won't kill you," Trunks murmured absently, peering around her to inspect the base of her silken tail, gently prodding it with a questing finger. "You're too valuable. He doesn't want Saiyans to die out." Chessa gasped at the touch, and he looked up, concerned. "Did that hurt?" She didn't smell as though she was in pain, not more so than before.

"N-no." She blushed, embarrassment rolling off her in waves. "It felt … good."

Trunks nodded. "Our tails are highly sensitive," he noted academically. He softly stroked hers where it had been abused, smiling to himself as her eyes closed and she began purring lightly. He loved hearing that sound out of her, seeing that blissful look on her face, but he would not—could not—let his father get any sort of a hold on Chessa, even if it meant letting her go. "I'm surprised you didn't pass out when father squeezed yours, or at least scream. Both can be caused by much less abuse than yours was subjected to."

"I was too terrified to do either," Chessa sighed, a hand slipping behind the man in front of her to tentatively stroke his tail; it only seemed fair that she make him purr as much as he was getting her to.

Trunks let his eyes flutter closed as her fingers ran over his tail, luxuriating in her touch. A moment later a deep purr rose from his throat, and his eyes snapped open. Pulling his hand from her tail, the Saiyan prince stepped back quickly, clearing his throat and suppressing a blush. "Thankfully they're durable despite their sensitivity. No lasting damage." He glanced down from her eyes for a brief moment. "Your neck is a different story. It's already starting to bruise. Mom will be furious at Father. Again."

Eyeing the demi-Saiyan in confusion, Chessa nodded slowly. "That will heal, too. Maybe I'll just wear high collars for a while." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "What did you mean, his plan?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm back and better than ever! I don't know if any of you know (I might have mentioned it in a note in another fic, if you've read any of my other stuff) but I suffer from serious depression, among other things. I'm currently on the maximum dosage of my antidepressants, and I'm doing a lot better. My trials are _far_ from over—I would like to be able to function without drugs—but I should be updating a lot more often. This is rapidly turning from spoof into something deeper, and I'm becoming increasingly attached to Chessa and my interpretation of the Brief's family at this point in time. 


	6. The Stars are Bright

**Pacifist**

Chapter 6—The Stars are Bright

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note:** Canon timeline officially scrambled. Author officially not caring. And merry Christmas! Happy all those other holidays I can't spell! For me, my Yule wasn't that great (I worked 3 p.m. to 11 p.m.) but I have this out for a Holiday present anyway.

_Under the Christmas Tree 2006_

* * *

The stars were bright that night. There was no moon; when she had asked shortly after her arrival why there was no moon, she had been given an indifferent answer about Piccolo destroying it and Bulma working on an artificial replacement that wouldn't have the unpleasant side effects. The topic was then promptly forgotten by everyone else, but Chessa found herself staring at the spot where something in her said the moon should be. Perhaps, back home, that was where the moon was. 

The young Saiyan girl shifted with a sigh, careful not to fall from her perch on the roof of the Capsule Corp. building. The place was undeniably huge, but it was nothing compared to the rifts between her and the others. Vegeta was a menace. Bulma was either a genius or an idiot, and which was anyone's guess. Bra was eager to learn, but she craved violence in a way that made her teacher flinch. And then there was Trunks …

Her tail twitched slightly before settling back around her knees. There was something in what they had shared, but she could not say what any more than she could imagine Vegeta purring. He'd saved her from his father, comforted her, and then, when she'd asked about the plans he'd mentioned …

_"Don't worry about it, Chessa." Those lavender eyes burned into her, fiery tendrils tracing everywhere they rested. "Father won't do anything to hurt you; he'll probably just ignore you."_

_She hadn't been satisfied. "He has plans for me," she pressed. "I need to know what they are. I need to know how to avoid them."_

_Trunks grasped her chin in his fingers with that odd combination of force and gentleness that she was quickly coming to associate with him. Those vivid violet eyes caught hers, dead serious. "I don't want you worrying about it. Just let me protect you from this, Chessa."_

Running her hands through her hair, the girl pulled it over her shoulder and began weaving it into a loose, comfortable braid. "Let him protect me?" Her hands paused for a moment as she lost herself in the stars. "Goddess," she breathed, "this place is so confusing. Vegeta is so very violent, Bulma can't decide if she's my mother or my best friend, Bra craves violence and power but learns so well, and Trunks … Goddess, he says he wants to protect me! Protect me from his father's scheming …." Releasing her half plaited hair from one hand, she reached up as if to touch the nonexistent moon.

"Are you Chessa Ohanzee?"

Chessa jumped, squeaking, nearly losing her balance as she turned to face the owner of the voice. Spiky black hair, the tail, and her nose all said he was Saiyan. But the way he sat, dressed in an orange and blue gi with his head cocked to the side, seemed totally harmless in a way that none of the others she had met were.

"Ye-es," she answered slowly, her hands fluttering to settle on her half-finished braid, sporadically twitching as though to complete. "I'm Chessa. Who … who might you be?"

"I'm Son Goku!" He grinned, sticking one hand behind his head, waving in utter imbecility. "Chi-Chi said I should be sure and come meet you some time, since Bulma seems to like you so much."

"I only really see Bulma at meals," Chessa mumbled, smoothing her hair before absently returning to progress on her braid. "I spend most of my time with Bra, or alone. Sometimes with Trunks." Pale pink tinged her white cheeks; the demi-Saiyan was so very confusing! Then his name registered, and her hands ceased their rhythmic motion. "You're Son Goku? Kakkarot?"

She was pretty sure that odd little sound was a giggle. "Yeah, I'm Goku. Vegeta calls me Kakkarot sometimes. You've heard about me?"

"Mostly from His Royal Highness," the witch said sagely, just a touch of sarcastic bite in the title. "Is he always so … " she paused, trying to think of the right word.

"Yeah, he's pretty much always like that. But he's really a softy—he just doesn't know how to show it!" He giggled again—yes, she was sure that was what that sound was. "Bulma's good for him."

Chessa nodded, falling silent and hugging her knees to her. The braid was tied off and swung behind her like a thick second tail. Vegeta was an enigma, but next to his son he was positively simple. With the father, you could always tell when he was feeling something—the violence was a dead give away. But the younger prince was ever changing, going from opened to clamed up, and she was sure he even sometimes pretended to other emotions than the ones he was feeling.

"—come to dinner with me and Chi-Chi and the boys and Videl and Pan!"

Blinking, the Saiyan girl tried to remember what Goku had been rambling about while she'd been lost in thought. He'd been talking about bits of everything, and after a stunned moment she managed to extract the important bits. "Dinner. Sure. I'll come by tomorrow night."

"Great! I'll tell Chi-Chi that you and Trunks are coming!"

"Wha—Trunks?"

"Sure!" Goku grinned, giggling again. "He knows the way, and he and Goten have been best friends forever! Why, they've been able to merge into Gotenks since they were small! Vegeta and I can merge, too, but we've only done it a couple of times.

Chessa twitched slightly; for some reason that sounded incredibly dirty, and she didn't want her mind going down that path. Especially not with Vegeta involved. With anyone. "I'll tell Trunks that we're invited." She was proud that she only sounded a little tense.

"Great! Well, see you!" With that Goku did something with his energy and took off flying.

Chessa stared after him a long moment before moving to climb back in her window. "This whole place is insane."

"You're the one who was out on the roof."

Perhaps she was still high strung from being attacked but Vegeta and snuck up on by Goku; she was barely in the window before she had ducked behind the sofa that was placed under it. There was a moment of silence, and then a low chuckle tickled her ears. Peeking out from her shelter, Chessa saw Trunks sitting backwards in her desk chair and smirking at her.

"If I wanted to hurt you, that sofa wouldn't be any protection. You do know that, right?" Chessa stuck her tongue out at Trunks, a pillow flying out of her hand towards his head. He reached up lazily and caught it, dropping it on her bed and walking over to the sofa. Smiling with too much amusement, he reached down, offering her a hand up.

Glaring (if so mild a look could be called a glare) at Trunks, Chessa accepted the hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. "Is there any particular reason you're in my room?"

Trunks sighed, dropping back into the chair he had been waiting in, lavender tail agitating the air behind him. "It's what father said." There was a momentary silence, and then he hurriedly added, "About you being my responsibility, I mean."

"So?" Still standing by the window, the young woman eyed him warily. "It's not like I actually am your responsibility or anything. Vegeta doesn't have any right to give me to you."

"Actually, he does." Trunks shrugged. "Not as a mate—no one can decide who a Saiyan will mate—" Chessa flinched slightly at the bite in his tone "—but he can set me to watch you, or make you my … responsibility. However much you deny he has any claim to some sort of rule, you know he does. Your nose knows it, at least—otherwise you wouldn't have to keep denying his claim. You'd just ignore it."

"Why should I listen to him? Goku is stronger than he is." As soon as the words left her mouth, she blinked, raising a hand tentatively towards her forehead.

"So you met Goku."

"Hmm?" Chessa ran her fingers through her hair, making it stand on end oddly in the front. "Oh, yeah. He was just here. We've been invited to dinner tomorrow night. Well, not invited, exactly, but—well, you probably know what I mean better than I do."

Trunks nodded, excitement glinting in his gaze. "Chi-Chi is an excellent cook. You might meet the others, too; Gohan and Goten come home for dinner as often as possible. But I should warn you, Chi-Chi can be a bit … much. And she loves matchmaking, so she'll probably interrogate you so she can decide if she should shove Goten or I at you."

Chessa blinked, then flopped down on her bed, groaning. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"They're great, Chessa, don't worry about it. And Goku's not someone you can be prepared for, anyway. He's more a force of nature."

**

* * *

Author's Note:** So … thought here. Did anyone reliable actually see Vegeta-sai destroyed? I mean, was there a witness to this, or did Freeza just tell Vegeta "Haha, i bl3w up ur pl4n3t!!!!!1" If you know, please tell me in your review. nudge nudge hint hint wink wink 


	7. Forward and Back

**Pacifist**

Chapter 7—Forward and Back

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note:** I love it when I'm listening to a song I've heard a million times before and I suddenly realize what it's about. I was listening to Night Train while I was writing this, sorta singing along. You know. "I'm loaded like a freight train / flying like an airplane" … and I realize that the song is about drugs, alcohol, and general debauchery. I love rock.

* * *

Leaning back against the leg of the chair Trunks was straddling, Chessa purred as he played idly with her hair. It was a comfortable sort of closeness, safe and warm; she felt like nothing so much as a kitten curled up on a hearth rug. She wasn't quite sure how she'd wound up seated as she was any more than she could remember when the window had been closed; they had been talking for quite some time, about everything and nothing. The Son family, the moon, why she liked the roof so, her lessons with Bra, his father, her family, what life had been like for her before the magical accident that had lead to her current circumstances—both their pasts were laid on the table in a sort of feast of conversation. There were only two things that hadn't been touched on; Trunks still clamed up at a mention of his father's plans. The other, however, needed to be addressed.

Reluctantly shifting away from the lightly scratching fingers, the full Saiyan turned her face up towards Trunks. "We haven't talked about why you came to see me yet."

Trunks smiled softly, crossing his arms on the back of the chair and resting his chin on them. "That was when you mentioned meeting Goku. Anyway, Father does have the right to rule, and you instinctively recognize that—though since Goku is stronger, there's a sort of … doubt of that right." He tossed his head slightly to the side and back, flinging a lock of lavender hair out of his eyes. "That's why Father is so obsessed with beating Goku."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You're my responsibility." He pressed a finger to her lips, forestalling her objection. He did not move it as he continued talking, her breath slipping from between slightly parted lips to play on his skin. "It isn't as if I own you or can make any decisions for you. But even if a decision of yours leads to it, if anything happens to you, it's my fault. It's my fault if you get killed, or make Father angry, or trip and sprain your ankle. Understand?"

The finger slid slowly away from her lips, and Chessa nodded reluctantly. "Pretty much I've been put into your protection and possibly tutelage as well."

"That's what I came to talk to you about." A pink tongue darted out to dart, catlike, over his lips. "You're not going to like this, but … I think you should learn to fight."

Chessa jerked as if slapped. "You know how I feel about that—why I don't fight! You know why I'm a pacifist."

"I know." Trunks said simply. "I've been around for enough of your sessions with Bra that I knew before I came to talk to you tonight. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't know how to protect yourself—to help keep others from harm, if nothing else. This is a different world than the one you came from; you can't afford to keep being so black and white about things. Take my father, for example—he's a good man, but he kills without mercy, enjoys killing. And Goku is pure of heart—perfectly so; Nimbus still holds him—but I've seen him kill without a thought to protect the Earth, his family, and his friends. If not for Goku and my mother, I doubt Father would be the man he is. He'd likely still be killing indiscriminately instead of like Goku does, just to protect what's his."

Chessa shook her head, scooting away from Trunks, curling up in a timid ball against her bed. For the first time since helping her up from behind the couch, Trunks moved from his chair, dropping easily to the floor and tilting Chessa's head up with one callused fingertip. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to any more than you'd force a belief on Bra," he said softly, the look in his eyes earnestly willing her to believe him. "I just want you to think about it." Then he stood and slipped out the door, which closed behind him with a faint hiss.

For several long moments, Chessa stared at the door as if expecting Trunks to reappear. When the door was still inert nearly five minutes later, the Saiyan female stood on slightly shaky legs, ordered the door locked, and strode too-purposefully over to her closet. Slipping into the good sized room that was devoted to her clothing, the girl dropped the loose tunic and pants she had worn that day down the laundry shoot and pulled on a silky nightgown—the overly comfortable type that made one feel better despite fitting like a sack.

So armored, she accompanied her confused expression to bed, settling beneath the plush covers and letting the oversized piece of furniture swallow her up into a marshmallow land of creature comfort. She reached out from her cocoon to turn off the lights, and then she waited in the darkness for sleep to take her.

It was a long time in coming as she lie in silent luxury, thinking about what Trunks had said.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's a short one, but my new beta, Breanna Tala, has the next chapter right now, and I'm working on chapter nine. 


	8. Dinner with Saiyans

**Pacifist**

Chapter 8—Dinner with Saiyans

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note:** So, here's chapter eight! Hopefully I'll have chapter nine out soon, but Goten is giving me problems. So I'll be kicking him for a while until I get more of a handle on him, and then I'll give you the next chapter! I actually finished this one right as 2006 was turning to 2007, so that's my New Year! No kiss or anything fun like that—just another completed chapter.

Maybe Goten will like me better in 2007.

* * *

Resisting the urge to just dive into the food like the other Saiyans were doing, Chessa merely ate at a brisk pace. She couldn't eat slowly—or even at what she considered a normal speed—and have time for anything but eating; nevertheless, she refused to let go of all decorum.

There wasn't any real attempt at dinner time conversation, though Chi-Chi and Videl did chat softly at one end of the table, their words drowned out by the Saiyans and demi-Saiyans eating everything in sight. Even Pan was shoveling food down at an alarming rate, and Chessa's insistence on using proper manners only put her a at a slightly slower pace.

After dinner had been cleared away, Chi-Chi herded the entire clan into the front room to spend some "quality family time" together. Not that the Son matriarch used those words, but it was what Chessa's mother had always said. Chi-Chi smiled at the visitors as she was arranging the family to her liking, "suggesting" that Chessa sit on the couch between the boys. The female Saiyan have rather taken a seat on the floor, but despite her preferences she wound up sandwiched between Trunks Briefs and Son Goten, the only bachelors on Earth with Saiyan blood.

"Your parents must miss you terribly." Chi-Chi said, smoothing Chessa's hair back from her face, smiling down at her with concentrated motherliness.

Shooting a feeble glare at Goten and Trunks, the young Saiyan woman returned Chi-Chi's smile with a tense little tick at the corner of her mouth. "I suppose they do, as any parent misses a wayward child. But even if I knew how to get back, they wouldn't recognize me anymore. I was brought here for a reason; it is for the best that things are as they are."

"So you are planning on staying around, then?" There was a glint in her eye that struck something deep within the young woman, and Chessa shifted uncomfortably.

"For the foreseeable future I will be at Capsule Corp. At least until I finish high school."

"Oh?" Chi-Chi settled herself across from the trio of teens, smoothing her loose pants as though settling a skirt over her legs—which made since, Chessa supposed, as the older woman was a princess; the only child of the Ox King. "Will you be starting in the fall? Where will you be going?"

"Orange Star High." She was feeling more awkward by the second. It was as if Son Chi-Chi had laid her out on a lab table and was carefully dissecting her. "Bulma has already worked out transfer records after having me take a couple of tests for her; I took the entrance exam last week."

"Do you know what class you will be in yet?"

Crossing her arms over her stomach, Chessa shifted slightly before answering. "4B." She glanced at Trunks, hoping for some help—perhaps another daring rescue, though this was undoubtedly a greater foe than his father (she had no question as to how Chi-Chi had managed a Saiyan husband and two half Saiyan sons)—but all she received for her trouble was a nearly imperceptible shrug.

"Really?" The maniac woman's smile widened a hair and Chessa slouched in her seat, wondering if she could successfully disappear between the males who framed her like overlarge bookends. "That is the same class that the boys are in. And do not slouch, dear; poor posture can ruin a girl's beauty."

Chessa shot straight up, her shoulders back and head held high. Proper posture was one of the many things her parents had taught her that she frequently ignored. "Yes, ma'am. Is it the same class as Trunks? Bulma never mentioned that."

"She probably thought he would mention it." Chi-Chi was positively grinning at this point. She looked over the girl in front of her once more before nodding slightly; Chessa bit her lower lip, alarmed by the woman's sudden decisiveness. "If you have any problems settling in when the term begins, I am sure that Goten will be more than willing to tutor you."

Elbowing Trunks in what she hoped was a discreet manner, the woman's prey nodded politely. It was hard not to glare at the boys sitting on either side of her as they shook slightly with suppressed laughter, but she managed to respond (fairly) calmly. "Thank you very much for the offer, Mrs. Son—ah—Chi-Chi. I'm sure that between these two I'll be up to speed by the time school starts." Only at the twin snorts from the inordinately amused boys did she realize what a horrible pun she'd managed.

Chi-Chi nodded, but it seemed to Chessa that the iron-willed woman's resolve somehow managed to grow firmer. "Just do not listen to a word either of them say about which teachers are best; they are as likely to lie as tell the truth, and all of it is aimed at causing trouble at that zoo."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm not familiar enough with the Japanese school system to write a story involving it. As such, the school (Orange Star High—if anyone can describe the girl's uniforms for me, it would be appreciated) will be much like American high school with what I know about Japanese high school mixed in. 


	9. Mathematical Error

**Pacifist**

Chapter 9—Mathematical Error

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note:** I really wish I could just kill Goten off, but I have plans for him. Ignore the nervous tick; I really am doing fine here. I'm sure I'll get the hang of Goten eventually.

* * *

For the most part, Chessa appreciated the stories that Trunks told her about the two families of Saiyans inhabiting Earth. When he started to talk about Goten, however, the stories stopped being helpful. All of Goten's adventures seemed to involve Trunks, and the young witch had yet to determine how such a nice guy could be such an impossible braggart. As such, when Chessa found herself dropped off at the Son residence, she didn't really know what to expect of Goten.

The relatively fair-haired alien sighed, shooting a furtive look toward the window. Trunks had intended to stay inside and help his best friend tutor Chessa in math (her worst subject) but Chi-Chi had shoved Goku and Trunks outside to train. Apparently training was much more interesting than "protecting" Chessa from his best friend. She could see them out there now, blurs of color on the grass, and even with her views on violence she would have rather been out there.

"I hate math," she sighed.

"It's not my favorite subject, either," Goten said with a shrug. "But my mom is, well …"

"Scary?"

The demi-Saiyan nodded. "And this isn't that complicated, anyway. I'm not sure why you're having trouble with it."

"Because math is flawed," Chessa answered curtly. She stabbed at his chest with the free end of her pencil to punctuate her point. "To illustrate, the basics ... " Flipping her pencil over, she scribbled something down on her scrap paper and pushed it over to Goten.

Looking down at what she had written, the demi-Saiyan blinked, then looked up and arched a dark eyebrow at the girl sharing the sofa with him. "One plus one does not equal two?"

"Exactly," she said, rapping the end of the pencil on the table to punctuate the point. "In nature, one and one almost never equals two. One plus one will equal one, or seven, or three, or even zero, but not two. It's just fancy ways of counting, and people try to shove the world into it. But just because four rows of three is twelve, it doesn't mean that means anything in nature … because in nature, you'll never get the same answer twice in any equation."

Goten blinked. Then, to make sure he had gotten his point across, he blinked again.

Understanding his lack of comprehension, Chessa sighed and continued her explanation. "Big animals eat small animals. Animals have babies. One and one rarely comes out as two."

"And what does that have to do with passing math?"

Oh. That. "Nothing, I suppose." She paused. "But math is still flawed."

"Doesn't matter. Just think of it as a way to learn enough to prove that to mathematically minded people."

"They won't listen."

Goten rolled his eyes. "Yes, but if you don't pass math, my mother will blame me. I don't care that you're gorgeous, I'm not facing that frying pan because you don't want to do math," he said teasingly, attempting to hide his trepidation at the possibility that he would be facing the dreaded frying pan.

Chessa eyed Goten sideways, leaning in to re-examine the problem that had been placed before her. "I really hope that wasn't an attempt to hit on me, because it was woefully pathetic."

"That was an attempt to get you to work on the math. When I hit on you, you'll know." His smirk was almost a leer, and Chessa glared.

"That almost makes me wish I believed hitting people was acceptable," Chessa said, playfully threatening Goten with a raised fist.

"But you don't. Trunks told me."

"But I don't," the girl replied with a firm nod. "Lucky for you; I probably hit pretty hard."

Goten shrugged, smirking again and looking her over. "Your looks hit harder than you ever could."

Her tail lashing behind her, Chessa growled. "I should fail math just to spite you."

"Fail on purpose?" Goten asked, obviously shocked by the notion. "Even Bulma would kill you for that."

Chessa shrugged, smirking slightly. "She might not," the Saiyan girl replied teasingly. "I'm much too cute to kill out of hand, even if I do fail math."

Goten's smirk returned so suddenly that it was as if it were trying to pretend it had never left. "I've got to agree with you there. You're much too cute to kill."

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Chessa turned her full attention back to the math book. She tapped her pencil on the table a few times as she stared down at the question, and then rapidly scribbled on the paper. Chin raised in defiance, she pushed the sheet over to Goten.

The younger son of Goku's blinked, then nodded to himself. "Correct. I thought you were having trouble with it," he asked suspiciously, then the leering smirk returned once again. "You don't really need an excuse to spend time with me," he added slyly.

"That's good," Chessa muttered irritably, scrawling down the answer for the next problem, "since I was looking for an excuse not to do math." _If only Goten wasn't so stuck on himself he'd probably be as much fun to be around as Trunks is, _she thought.

Goten laughed, rubbing the back of his head; despite adopting the pose, he didn't have the same laugh as his brother and father. "Shot down! So, you don't need tutoring after all."

"I was in advanced classes at home," Chessa said smugly. "Apparently that means I'm prepared to receive a real education in Japan."

"Apparently. I should probably congratulate you for managing to learn enough over there to be up to form over here." Goten's smirk held slightly less of a leer this time—maybe he could be taught. Chessa had never liked guys who were constantly hitting on her. "I guess we can slip outside, then, if we're careful not to let Mom catch us. I want a go against Trunks before Dad wears him out completely."

Chessa chuckled and followed Goten over to the door on light feet. She held her breath as he slowly opened the door, praying that it would not creak and alert Chi-Chi as she worked in the kitchen. The door came open soundlessly, however, and Goten motioned for her to move outside.

Not bothering to slip her shoes back on, Chessa stepped out onto the soft summer grass. She felt as if she had just accomplished a particularly daring escape, and she barely managed to hold in her giggles until Goten closed the door. She peered towards the kitchen window, spotting Chi-Chi bent over a cutting board with her back to those outside. Spinning on the grass, Chessa giggled again, enjoying the feel of grass beneath her bare feet.

"I thought Chi-Chi had you two cooped up inside studying," Goku said in the overly cheerful manner that only he could manage.

Goten shrugged, grinning at his father and best friend. "Apparently Chessa is pretty good at even her worst subject. There's no use in wasting a perfectly good summer day studying if we don't have to!"

"I take it I'm switching sparring partners, then?" Trunks asked, giving Chessa a quick smile.

"Of course," Goten said cheekily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The two boys shot off, waving back at Chessa and Goku as they left. Almost immediately the sounds of mock-battle resumed, and the pacifistic Saiyan let herself drop to the ground to stare up at the fluffy white clouds that drifted across the pale blue sky.

"I suppose you don't fight at all," Goku asked, obviously hoping that he would be corrected.

Chessa peered sideways at Goku. He was gazing up at the sky as well, standing beside her and slightly back so his shadow wouldn't fall on her. "Not at all," she confirmed, her tail curled lazily over her stomach. "I don't believe in fighting. It just hurts everyone involved."

Goku nodded, somehow managing to look comical and serious at the same time. "And if the only way to save someone you loved was to fight?"

"There are always other options," Chessa answered. "You just have to look hard enough."

The apparently naive Saiyan nodded again. It didn't seem as if he was accepting her points, just acknowledging them, and for a brief moment Chessa wondered if he was really as empty-headed as he looked. "How'd you like to be able to get around without Trunks carrying you everywhere?"

The sudden shift in direction assured her that Goku really was as simple as he appeared. "That sounds great," she said with a wide smile, pushing her up off the grass with her elbows.

"Then let's get started!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** I think I've got it! Most of the characters are easy to place. You know, Chi-Chi is a bear, Goku's an overlarge puppy, Gohan is a dog, Chessa and the Briefs family are all cats … and Goten, who's been giving me so much trouble, is more of an alley cat! Now that I know what animal he is, it might be easier to write him. 


	10. Pure in Heart

**Pacifist**

Chapter 10—Pure in Heart

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

"Just hop on!" 

"That," Chessa observed dubiously, "is a cloud."

"A nimbus cloud," Goku confirmed. "Hopefully you'll be able to ride it until you can fly on your own."

"And if I can't?" Chessa asked, eyeing the cloud warily. It was a fluffy white cloud; the type that children drew with crayons or made out of cotton balls and glue. It was too small to carry rain, much less an almost full-grown Saiyan.

Goku shrugged, hand behind his head and dopey grin spread across his face. "We'll work that out if you can't." Chessa still didn't move, and the older Saiyan patted her shoulder in what was obviously supposed to be a reassuring manner and, surprisingly, it barely stung at all. "Just step onto Nimbus. If you can't ride it, you'll just step right through. There's no way you can get hurt!"

Whatever flaws Goku had, dishonesty was not among them. If he said it was safe, then it was safe enough that he would trust his own child to it. Chessa carefully lifted a foot and placed it on the cloud, fully expecting to step right through it. To her surprise and mild chagrin, however, her foot remained on top of the cloud. "It's solid," she whispered, awestruck, as she climbed the rest of the way onto the little cloud.

"Yes, it is!" Goku was grinning broadly. "No one's ridden Nimbus since Goten learned to fly."

"She can ride Nimbus?" Goten asked. The boys had stopped fighting and were watching with the intense interest that Chessa had decided was a universal trait of the Saiyan race. They looked as though they had just been given a fascinating bit of information that they had no intention of sharing.

"I can sit on Nimbus," Chessa amended a little testily. "I have no idea how to go about riding it."

Trunks and Goten exchanged looks in a way only long time friends can, communicating volumes while keeping everyone else in the dark. Chessa didn't have time to demand they tell her what they knew before Goku laughed loudly.

"Oh!" the silly Saiyan exclaimed, "riding Nimbus is easy! You just get on and—"

It was ten minutes before Goku decided that Chessa understood the simple directions well enough for him to stop lecturing her on how to fly the cloud he'd given her. The witch thought it was quite a bit like riding on a mythical flying carpet; still, a cloud was much handier than a rug, and it would blend in better.

"Thank you, Goku," Chessa said brightly, strain starting to show in her broad smile. "I'm sure that Nimbus will be a great help in getting around. It's nice of you to part with him for my sake."

"You're sure you understand?" Goku asked, still somewhat uncertain despite the fact that he had just told her she was ready to take the little cloud. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt because I haven't explained something well enough."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Chessa replied, forcing the warmth to stay in her voice. "And I can take the boys with me the first few times, just to be safe."

Goku nodded slowly. "You're probably right—"

"GOKU!" Anything else he might have said was cut off as Chi-Chi called for him from the house. Turning anxiously towards his home, he nodded once to Chessa before trotting up the grassy slope like a loyal pup who isn't sure if he'll be receiving a treat or a scolding. Soon after he disappeared inside, words floated down from the open kitchen window.

"Chessa and Goten are suppposed to be studying," Chi-Chi told her husband firmly.

"I know, but Goten said she doesn't need to, and so they came outside." Goku was undoubtedly rubbing the back of his head as he spoke.

"He'd better be certain that Chessa knows everything to start school with them," Chi-Chi warned. "Classes begin in under two weeks."

"He seemed pretty certain, Chi-Chi, and you did teach him almost as long as you taught Gohan!"

"I was helping Bulma with Trunks as well," Chi-Chi sighed. "Those two have always been a handful. What are they doing out there?"

"Goten and Trunks had just stopped training," Goku reported, his customary grin audible now that he was certain that his wife wasn't going to get mad at him. "And I've given Chessa Nimbus."

There was a moment of silence before Chi-Chi spoke again, her voice holding tightly reigned curiosity. "Chessa can ride Nimbus?"

"Yeah," Goku said nonchalantly.

"I see," Chi-Chi replied, her voice too level for her to be as unfazed by the news as she was pretending. "Help me finish up the dishes, and then we can spend some time together while the children are outside."

Blushing, Chessa turned her back firmly to the house and cleared her throat. They were quiet now except for Goku, who was humming cheerfully and tunelessly to himself as he worked. But "spend time together without the kids" was usually code for things that the kids didn't want to know about.

"So what is it about Nimbus that makes it such big news that I can ride it?" she asked, trying to turn her thoughts firmly from the 'but they're old enough to be my parents!' reaction she was having. The boys exchanged another look, and Chessa folded her arms under her bosom. "Well?"

"Only the pure in heart can ride on a nimbus cloud," Trunks supplied, his intense gaze focused on Chessa once more.

Blinking, Chessa turned the idea over in her mind. That had not been the answer she had been expecting, but it made sense, in a bizarre sort of way. If one was going to ride on a cloud, it only followed that a heavy heart would make you a burden that the cloud was unable or unwilling to bear. "All right, then," she said simply. At the boys' wide-eyed reactions, she sighed. "What, did you expect me to be evil? It's not really that big a deal."

"We didn't expect you to be evil," Goten answered indignantly. "It's just that not many people can ride Nimbus. I think maybe Pan still can, but she flies on her own."

"Everyone has a little evil in them, after all," Trunks pointed out.

"My evil must just not be very heavy," Chessa sniffed in mock-disdain. "Come on, let's fly. I'm looking forward to seeing what this little cloud can do."

The boys shared an amused look as the Saiyan girl leapt eagerly onto Nimbus, her uneasiness about riding a cloud having melted at the prospect of flight. They waited for Chessa to get Nimbus moving, and then the boys took off after her.

For a moment the pagan's aerial progress was slow and shaky, and then she shot forward at an alarming rate. At the sound of her screams, Trunks and Goten shot towards her. Then they caught sight of her face and relaxed; pure, unbridled joy was visible on Chessa's face for the world to see.

To Chessa, it seemed like forever before she had her feet on the ground again, a grin as wide as Goku's plastered on her face and her dark hair a wild tangle around her face. Slightly breathless, she flopped on the ground once more, smiling at the clouds overhead.

"Enjoy flying?" Trunks asked, smiling fondly as he sat on a patch of fluffy grass next to her.

"Yes," she breathed ecstatically. "It must be amazing for you, not needing anything at all to fly."

Goten shrugged. "I've been flying since I was little. It's not really any different for me than walking."

"That's a shame," Chessa murmured, eyes fluttering closed contentedly. "It's amazing."

Trunks chuckled, brushing a tangle of hair out of Chessa's face. "It is. But you don't need to exhaust yourself enjoying it."

"I'm not exhausted," Chessa objected, yawning. "I'll just rest for a little, and then I can fly more."

"You're not even really doing any work," Trunks pointed out, amused. "You exhausted yourself being excited over flying."

"I do too do some of the work," Chessa pouted sleepily.

"We should take her back up to the house," Goten said, glancing over at Trunks. "Is she usually like this?"

"'M still awake," Chessa muttered. "And I like the hill. Nice and soft and grassy."

"But you might get cold out on the hill," Trunks pointed out fondly as he shrugged in response to Goten's question.

"Why would the hill do something mean like make me cold?" she asked, confused.

"Because hills like their sleep, too," Trunks said, smirking. He'd used this same tactic on her before—the girl seemed to have a fondness for falling asleep on the grass. "And the hill can't sleep if you're lying on it."

"Then we should go inside so that the hill can sleep," Chessa said with a decisive nod. Trunks helped her up and wrapped an arm around her waist, leading the sleepy Saiyan up to the house. Once he had her settled on the couch, he turned to his bemused best friend.

"She does this sort of thing," Trunks admitted with a small shrug. "I'll take her home if she doesn't wake up in an hour or so. She might just have wanted a nap, or she might have decided that outside on the hill seemed like the perfect place to spend the night."

"She really is a cute one," Goten mused. "Mom trying to hook me up with her might not be a bad thing."

"I'm fond of her, too," Trunks sighed. "She's one of those people that you just want to protect. And she certainly doesn't make it hard to like her."

* * *

**Author's Note:** … I feel like I've just made my character narcoleptic. But she's not! Just really random. Sunbeams can be very soothing. 


	11. Crack the Books

**Pacifist**

Chapter 11—Crack the Books

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

Even with the super-human strength that Chessa possessed as a member of the Saiyan race, her bookbag felt heavy. It wasn't that it was physically heavy—she didn't have her books yet since she was on her way to the first day of school—but it still weighed her down. The freedom of summer was gone, replaced by the chains of structured education.

She tried to twitch her tail, growling faintly as it refused to budge. The capsule … things … that Bulma had created to conceal the boys' tails at school were effective, but not particularly comfortable. She'd gotten used to having her tail and felt trapped with it confined in some strange non-space dimension thing. At least the uniform at Orange Star High wasn't as strict as it was other places.

The bag was suddenly lifted from her shoulders, and Chessa stopped to glare back at Trunks. "I can carry my own almost-empty bag," she said irately.

"I'd think you'd be used to me taking care of you by now," Trunks replied mildly. "Besides, it wouldn't do to make a lady carry her own backpack."

Chessa stuck her tongue out at Trunks, folding her arms under her bosom. She ignored the brilliant orange pin stuck on her white blouse, tapping her foot in its black Mary Jane. "You have enough to carry with your over-large head."

"If you want to carry the bag, I could always carry you," Trunks suggested playfully, swinging the bag over his shoulder opposite his own. "I'm sure you'd love to arrive at school that way."

Rolling her eyes, Chessa shook her head at Trunks'. "You know, you keep that up and I might just take you seriously."

"Who says I'm not serious?" Trunks asked, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

The Saiyan girl erupted into a fit of giggles, grabbing Trunks' arm and letting him tow her along towards their high school. "Serious? You?"

"I'm serious sometimes!" Trunks objected, obviously affronted.

"And when you are, it shows," Chessa pointed out, grinning cheekily before she started chortling again.

Trunks rolled his eyes, walking silently along with his mirthful companion. He never would understand how she could go from glum to giggling in such a short time, but she managed it just often enough that he wasn't floored every time it happened. However she managed it, though, he didn't want to really get her going—she could get all too accurate in her teasing. _If this is Chessa innocent—_ He stopped himself before the thought could get any farther.

"What are you so happy about?" Goten asked warily as he joined his friends, coming from the alley he just landed in.

With a broad smile directed toward the new member of their group, Chessa answered, "Trunks wasn't being serious."

Goten blinked at Chessa then turned to his best friend with a raised eyebrow. "Do I want to know what she's going on about?"

"Probably not," Trunks advised, tapping his temple. "She's being a bit crazy today."

"Must be because school is starting," the dark-haired boy decided.

The female Saiyan laughed again, looping one arm through the elbow of either male. "Come on," she said perkily, "we don't want to be late on our first day. And we're all in the same class!"

The boys exchanged looks, black eyes bullying the one with more experience to deal with the obviously hyper girl. "Well, Chessa, if you weren't skipping we'd move faster," Trunks pointed out.

"Oh," Chessa said, inspecting her feet and chewing her lower lip lightly. "I probably shouldn't have had coffee with breakfast."

The boys sighed, exchanging long-suffering looks over Chessa's head. This was going to be a long day.

By lunch time, Chessa had calmed down somewhat. Instead of giggling at everything, she was just giggling at things that were at least mildly humorous. Like her octopus hotdogs and the overly artistic seascape salad that went with them. Trunks had no idea where his mother found the time to do things like that, but she did—his lunch was the same.

"So, are you coming to the party tonight?" Selene simpered. Trunks supposed she was pretty—blonde hair, blue eyes, leggy—but he had never paid more attention to her than was strictly necessary.

"That depends on what my friends are doing," the young prince answered absently. "Probably not."

"Mom will want me home," Goten supplied. He cocked his head to the side, then amended his statement. "Unless I stay over at Capsule Corp."

And Chessa chose that moment to register the world around her. "Party? What kind of party?"

Selene eyed the new girl disdainfully, sizing her up to determine how much of a threat she was. "Just a little gathering," she said in a bored tone. "The class gets together at the beginning of every term, to sort of kick things off right, that sort of thing. Music, dancing, lots to eat and drink."

"Sounds like fun!" Chessa turned her hyperactive attentions on the boys, smiling widely enough to give Goku a run for his money. "Why don't we go?"

"My mother—" Goten objected

"You know Bulma can convince Chi-Chi that you absolutely have to go to this. Or maybe she'll lie for us; she seems like she'd be cool like that."

"Wait—you know Bulma Briefs?" Selene was obviously starting to wonder if what she had originally thought was a minor threat was turning out to be much more dangerous than the effects of caffeine had originally lead the blonde to believe.

"Know her?" Chessa asked, head tilted curiously to one side. She brushed a loose wisp of hair out of her face before answering. "Of course I know her! I live with her. She and Bra take me shopping sometimes, but I can't get Trunks to come. Bulma has already given up on trying to get Vegeta to go."

Looking as though she had swallowed her tongue, Selene responded with a simple, "I see."

"Trunks, Goten, we should go!" Chessa wheedled, tossing her hair playfully. "It'll be fun! I haven't done much dancing since I got here. And it's not like it would be dangerous—you two can take care of yourselves and me with enough energy to spare for fun and a busload of nuns!"

"Only because a busload of nuns doesn't require much attention," Goten muttered, earning himself a 'light' punch from Trunks. "Hey! All right, if we can get past Mom, we'll go. I've never been to one of these things before; it should be fun!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew! Now that chapter's done with. It took me forever to write it, and I kept getting blocked. Stupid muse. She knows that the plot gets moving forward some more after this chapter, and she's resisting it. Major kudos to Breanna Tala—she's a queen among betas. One question for those of you who review as well as reading (yes I am attempting to guilt people into giving me more reviews, though at 2:21 am I could be more effective about it). Do you think the chapters should be longer? Chapter 10 has been the longest so far, and it's only 1669 words, according to MSWord. Am I shorting you, or are you fine with shorter chapters? 


	12. My Place, Tonight

**Pacifist**

Chapter 12—My Place, Tonight

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note:** The Saiyan Three do something fairly stupid in this chapter. Please keep in mind that (as far as this fic is concerned) this is Goten's and Trunks' first party of this sort, as well as Chessa's.

* * *

The site of the party was reminiscent of Goten's home, if on a smaller scale. There was a comfortable looking house with some land surrounding it, though nowhere near the wild acres that encompassed the Son residence. Chessa had talked Bulma into covering for Goten (not that she took much convincing, as she disagreed with Chi-Chi about whether or not social activity was necessary for the boys) and so the trio was at the party with the stern princess none the wiser.

"Glad you could make it!" Selene's energetic greeting was directed at the trio as they climbed out of the convertible that Bulma had lent them for the night. The blonde's eyes followed Trunks as he helped Chessa jump out of the back seat and collapsed the shiny red car into its capsule form.

"Bulma was cool about helping us get out here," Goten said with a broad grin. "She said that we needed to get out more, anyway."

"Apparently she thinks the three of us should have more people to wreak havoc with," Chessa said brightly. Grabbing Trunks' and Goten's hands, she tugged them off in the direction of the music. The boys laughed, following her, and Selene looked distinctly put out.

"She wants to be that way, does she?" Selene hissed after the trio of Saiyans had moved out of earshot. "There's no way I'm giving up on Trunks just because some new chit shows up." Her glare could have melted ice, but the now distant Saiyans didn't feel it at all.

"Ooo, cookies!"

"No, Chessa," Trunks sighed. "Not right off the bat, all right? It took you most of the day to recover from your coffee."

The girl sighed, pouting at the boys, but they were obviously decided on the matter. "Fine. The cookies will wait until you aren't looking."

"I don't know how it is that you can be Saiyan and still be affected so quickly by caffeine and sugar," Goten muttered. "Logically, you should metabolize it too quickly for it to really affect you, unless you have a lot—and for us, that's more than any sane person would let you near."

Chessa paused, stopping an intricate mahogany braid half-way around her head, to peer at Goten curiously. "Are you going to be a doctor? Because I really hadn't thought about that. I just figured that two, two and a half pots of coffee would do that."

Trunks winced and Goten whistled. "That explains this morning, since Bulma makes such huge pots of coffee, and it's strong stuff, too. I still think that it should have worn off faster, though." The Son's eyes crinkled slightly in amusement. "Vegeta does love his coffee."

"He's never had more than _one_ pot of that hell's brew my mom calls coffee," Trunks stated, clearly astonished and horrified at the prospect of Chessa consuming more than twice what his father would. "That doesn't just explain this morning, Goten—it really does explain the whole day! I'm going to have to talk to Mom about just letting you drink as much of that stuff as you want."

"But … it was yummy!" Chessa objected, sounding like a kid in a candy shop who had just been told there was no more of her favorite chocolate. "Lots of cream and sugar."

"Just one cup in the future, okay?" Trunks begged. "I like you better when you're not on excessive amounts of caffeine. Just yourself, you know?"

Perhaps it was a trick of the dim light, but Trunks could have sworn that those large, expressive chocolate eyes got even bigger for a moment as she finished her braided crown. "Just one cup. Not that those tankards are really cups, but … I promise." A big grin split Chessa's face and she leaned in to give Trunks a peck on the cheek. "Come on, even without exorbitant amounts of sugar, there's punch, and music, and dancing, and people to talk to! Let's get out there and have fun!"

Chessa turned quickly to sway over to the refreshments and grab herself a pitcher of punch—screw the cups, they were much too small—hoping that her friends hadn't noticed her sudden blush as she pulled back from giving Trunks that little kiss. She took a big swig of the fruity concoction, feeling rather self-conscious in the outfit that Bra and Bulma had picked out for her. How a ten-year-old girl could be so fashion-obsessed …

Carrying her pitcher, the female Saiyan returned to her friends. Her blush had cleared and she was not about to let a little discomfort with her clothes ruin the night for her. Low-rise black leather pants fit her like a second skin to the knee before flaring just slightly above her strappy emerald stilettos. She couldn't have managed the shoes as a human—not for the whole night—but the four-inch heels that would have strained a human's feet and calves was perfectly comfortable for a Saiyan. The outfit was completed by an asymmetrical emerald crop-top and a strand of black pearls around her throat with a pair of the rare gems hanging from her ears. She looked stunning.

She wasn't sure how to feel about showing herself off this way. It was fine for Bulma, and little Bra (though Daddy's Little Princess did so much less, as she was still ten), but Chessa was a different sort of animal. She was Saiyan, proud and strong … and a pacifist. _I'm only Saiyan in body, and though my instincts sometimes come out to play, I'm still human at heart._ "So, boys, are we just going to stand here all night?"

Someone chuckled, tapping Chessa on the shoulder. She turned to see a smiling face behind her, all too pretty, with sapphires for eyes and raven-feather hair. "I'm Gabriel Tarries," the face said kindly. "I noticed that neither of these brutes were asking you to dance, so I thought I'd cut in and welcome you to our class properly."

"Chessa Ohanzee," she replied with a smile of her own. "Trunks and Goten make excellent bodyguards; that's why I keep them around."

"Ah, I see," Gabriel said warmly. There was nothing overly intimate in his tone—just honest friendliness and good will. "Well, if your bodyguard would relinquish you to my protection for a while, I would be honored if you would dance with me."

Chessa smiled at Gabriel before shooting a look over her shoulder at the demi-Saiyans. They had their arms crossed over their chests, much as if they were actually her bodyguards. "It's my pleasure," she purred, handing Goten her pitcher and letting Gabriel lead her away.

Trunks and Goten stood there, feeling slightly put out, as Chessa swayed away with Gabe. "Well, at least we know she's safe with him," Goten muttered, taking a swig from the pitcher Chessa had thrust upon him. "He might be a weakling, but his heart is in the right place."

"He's as nice as your dad," Trunks pointed out, grabbing the pitcher from his best friend, lavender eyes intent on the Saiyan on the dance floor. "Got that same 'protector of the innocent' thing going on." He swallowed a mouthful of the fruity stuff then passed the pitcher back to Goten.

"Damn, we're going to have to keep an eye on people around her," Goten observed, giving a low, appreciative whistle. He and Trunks weren't the only ones watching Chessa dance; she was lithe, graceful, all her curves in just the right places on her toned body. Gabriel was treating her just like he would any other girl, but the others wouldn't hesitate to try to take advantage of her.

"Mm-hmm," Trunks agreed around another swallow of punch; between the two of them, he and Goten had already polished off Chessa's pitcher. "We're going to have to grab some more punch before she gets back."

"I'll get a refill," Goten volunteered, snatching the pitcher out of Trunks' hands. "Keep an eye on her." The dark-haired demi-Saiyan proceeded to wander off towards the well-stocked refreshment table, leaving Trunks to watch Chessa alone.

The song ended while Goten was gone, and Gabriel led Chessa back over to her friends, true to form. He stopped once they reached Trunks, bowing over Chessa's hand, stopping just short of kissing it. "You dance very well, Chessa. Remember, if you need anything, I'm here for you."

"Thank you," she responded, slightly flushed, a grin spread across her face. She watched the oh-so-pretty Gabriel walk away, then turned to Trunks, still flushed with excitement. "Well, he was nice."

"Gabe is nice to everyone," Trunks informed her, his eyes boring into her. He wanted to dance with her, closer than she'd danced with Gabriel. But he was not going to have her become a pawn in his father's game any more than he wanted to give up his future because the Saiyan no Ouji thought that his son should mate a full-blooded Saiyan just because one was available. "He's like Goku."

"Except handsome and charming, for a human," Chessa added. "Where'd my punch go? I'm a bit thirsty." She brushed a loose wisp of hair out of her face, looking around for the pitcher she had left with Goten, her cheeks still distinctly pink. Trunks could still smell excitement coming off of her, and he decided that he and Goten would have to make sure she got to dance as much as she wanted that night.

"It's right here," Goten announced, handing the pitcher to Chessa. "I hope you don't mind that we finished off the first batch."

Chessa shrugged, accepting the jug and taking a long draft. "Fine with me. It's not like I'm going to get Saiyan germs from you two." She handed the jug off to Trunks, her blush intensifying as their fingers brushed.

_Could it be that she … no._ Trunks shook his head to clear it of foolish thoughts. "Anyway, Gabriel is everyone's best friend, excepting thugs. You're almost as safe with him as you are with us. We're more than willing to dance with you, and if anyone else asks you, we'll tell you if it's better to say no."

Nodding, Chessa accepted the carafe back from Trunks, taking a swallow before passing it on to Goten. "The whole you-looking-out-for-me thing, got it." She smiled, wrapping one arm around each of the large males. "No one would dare try anything with you two watching out for me." The boys blushed, neither of them really sure what to do about the hug. "You're the best friends a girl could ask for."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is the longest chapter of _Pacifist_ so far. I decided to break the party up into two chapters because I'm on page four, and I don't want to hugely lengthen the chapters (unless I get beaten into it by reviewers popping out of the woodwork), just make sure they average from 1500-2000 words from now on. There's still some action planned for later in the party, and this seemed like a good stopping point, so … wait for chapter 13. Review. Stuff like that. It shouldn't be too long. I'm on a roll. This is the second chapter I've completed today. 


	13. What Spikes?

**Pacifist**

Chapter 13—What Spikes?

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them. "This Could Be Love" is by Alkaline Trio.

**Author's Note:** Yes, _that _stupid thing. Drunk Saiyans ahead!

* * *

Chessa had long since lost count of the number of pitchers of punch she'd polished off with the help of her two friends slash bodyguards, all three talking, giggling, dancing together and oddly oblivious of the world. Around them, couples wrapped around each other on the dance floor and curled up in corners, so the Saiyans' inattentive state was probably the best way to deal with that, anyway. 

"… and _then_ Vegeta popped up, scowling something awful. Trunks and I just froze, and then he dropped the Dragonball radar right on Vegeta's foot!" Goten waved his arms widely to emphasize the point, grinning more stupidly than his father ever had. Chessa doubled over in giggles, clutching her bare stomach, but Trunks glared at his best friend.

"I wasn't the one who begged dad not to hurt us!" Trunks added, his speech slightly slurred. He passed their current pitcher to Goten. "You've got a bit of punch right here," he told Chessa, reaching out to rub the corner of her mouth gently with his thumb.

Chessa blushed, ducking her head. "Really?" She rubbed the spot with the back of her hand, the tips of her ears decidedly pink.

"It's gone now," Trunks murmured. Goten smirked at the pair, leaning against a tree with the pitcher in hand. "I get this dance, okay?" Chessa nodded, lips parted slightly, and as the next song started she turned her attention to the violet eyed hunk before her.

_I've got a book of matches  
__I've got a can of kerosene  
__I've got some bad ideas involving you and me  
__I don't blame you for walking away  
__I touched myself at thoughts of flames  
__I shat the bed and laid there in it  
__Thinking of you wide awake for days  
__Wide awake for days_

The music was not something she'd usually dance to, but Chessa didn't object as Trunks pulled her close, his hands on her hips. The beat pumped through her, though them, and in the light of the stars and ornamental lanterns, she gave herself over to the music.

_And I found you tongue-tied;  
__My twisted little brain  
__You couldn't crack a smile  
__I didn't catch your name  
__I don't blame you for walking away  
__I'd do the same if I saw me  
__I swear it's not contagious  
__In four short steps we can erase this_

Trunks' eyes were fixed on hers, the usual intensity in them doubled, tripled, so much more. She hadn't ever seen him like this, all of his being so very focused, turned on one thing so acutely that everything else was blocked out of his world. It frightened her to be the focus of his gaze; the strength of his attention excited her. The emotions wouldn't quite settle long enough for her to catch them, flowing out through the dance and the music, their bodies never touching except for Trunks' hands resting so very firmly on her hips.

_Step one—slit my throat  
__Step two—play in my blood  
__Step three—cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing out of the house  
__Step four—stop off at Edgebrook Creek and rinse your crimson hands  
__You took me hostage and made your demands  
__I couldn't meet them so you cut off my fingers, one by one ...  
__One by one ..._

His hands slid slowly upward, resting on the exposed skin of her waist. He tugged her forward, a low, possessive growl growing in his throat. Her body brushed lightly against his and she turned her face up, eyes slightly lidded, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. For a moment, they stared at each other, their eyes caught in some strange trap. Trunks leaned in slowly, stopping as his breath played on Chessa's lips.

_I'm like a broken record  
__I've got a needle scratching me  
__It injects the poisons of alcohol I.V.  
__I don't blame you for walking away  
__I'd do the same if I saw me  
__I swear it's not contagious  
__I swear to God it's not contagious_

Goten cleared his throat, and the spell was broken. "Y'know, everyone can see you two."

Chessa blushed, stepping back from Trunks and grabbing the pitcher out of Goten's hands. There was a good third of it left and she downed it all. The jug hit the floor as she panted, eyes closed. What had—how—gods, he was her best friend!

"I'll go get some more," Trunks said gruffly, his ears red, carefully not looking at Chessa. He leaned down to pick up the fallen pitcher, the lantern light playing on his muscles as he did. Chessa's breath caught in her throat as she watched him walk off towards the refreshments, now mostly picked over. There was absolutely no way—

"There must be something in the punch," she muttered, blushing. "We should probably stop." Smiling at Goten, she brushed loose hairs out of her face, tucking them behind one ear. "After all, I feel the same way about both of you!"

_Step one—slit my throat  
__Step two—play in my blood  
__Step three—cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing out of the house  
__Step four—stop at Lake Michigan and rinse your crimson hands  
__You took me hostage and made your demands  
__I couldn't meet them so you cut off my fingers, one by one_

"Sure you do," Goten chuckled. "My mom wants to set the two of us up, but if I'm doomed to be the best friend, I can deal."

"There's nothing to deal with," Chessa said firmly, leaning against the tree by Goten. "We just got caught up in the moment."

"Really."

"It could have happened with us, too," she said firmly, grabbing Goten's shoulders. It had to have just been the night, the music, even the punch. "Dance the rest of the song with me."

Goten shrugged, placing his hands on her waist. "Whatever you say. You're the boss and all that," he replied, grinning at her as foolishly.

_This could be love—love for fire  
__This could be love—love for fire  
__This could be love for fire forevermore_

Chessa let the music sweep her away again. Trunks was taking longer than was necessary—he must have been as flustered about almost kissing as she was. "I absolutely love having friends like you two," she murmured, smiling at Goten.

"That's good—you're stuck with us." Goten's grin turned cheeky for a moment. His hands were much gentler on her waist than Trunks' had been.

Chessa smirked back. "Good. Then everything is going according to my plan." She giggled, leaning in to nuzzle Goten's nose. He was safe, someone she could trust absolutely. Tentatively, she brushed her lips against his.

Goten responded immediately, one hand sliding up her back to cup the back of her head. He kissed her eagerly, as if he wanted to show her everything that a kiss was as fast as he could without overwhelming her. His tongue brushed her lips, seeking permission. Before she had time to make any sort of decision, however, someone cleared their throat and the two Saiyans pulled apart.

_Step one—slit my throat  
__Step two—play in my blood  
__Step three—cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing out of the house  
__Step four—stop at Berkley Marina and rinse your crimson hands  
__You took me hostage, made your demands  
__I couldn't meet them so you cut off my fingers, one by one_

Trunks was standing there stoically—too stoically—with a fresh pitcher of punch and a plate of cookies. "Here," he said gruffly, shoving the pitcher at Goten and the plate at Chessa. "I'm going home. I'm sure you can manage to get Chessa home safely when you two are done here, Goten." Then, turning on his heel, Trunks stalked off into the trees, taking off a moment later.

_One by one_


	14. Let's Blame the Alcohol

**Pacifist**

Chapter 14—Let's Blame the Alcohol

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

Moaning, Chessa pulled her pillow over her head, trying to drown out the offensive noise that was her alarm clock attempting to wake her. Between her behavior the previous night (the memory of which was admittedly hazy in some areas and all too clear in others) and the state of her head this morning, she was positive that someone had spiked the punch. _And stupid us, guzzling the stuff like that,_ she thought bitterly, glaring out from under her pillow at the clock. _It will undoubtedly be all over school today._

Yanking the stupid capsule-thing off of her tail, Chessa stalked to her bathroom, stripping off her slept-in clothes and stilettos as she went. "My mouth tastes like something died in there," she complained to herself. Apparently her parent's strict rules against attending parties had at least some intelligence behind it. "And my tail is staying out today," she muttered. "I'll just wear a hoodie—probably be several girls who were stupid at the party and feel the same way I do."

As soon as she was cleaned up and had ingested massive amounts of ibuprofen, Chessa stumbled groggily down the stairs to breakfast, tail trailing behind her like some wilted thing. Her damp hair was simply pulled back into a pony tail, and she silently took her seat at the table. She was halfway through her cup of coffee—she thought she remembered promising Trunks she'd only ever have one cup a morning—before she felt even relatively like talking, despite the shower's help in easing her hangover.

Bra and the adults were absent for some reason (perhaps they had eaten earlier, with the three teens so slow today), leaving the three high school students alone. Trunks looked like he was in a state similar to hers, if sullen and stiff, but Goten … "Goten, you look like hell," she informed him bluntly.

"Vegeta 'cided that four am was a good time to spar," Goten muttered into his arms, ignoring his food in favor of attempting to get more sleep. "Ev'n though I had a killer headache."

"Someone must have spiked the punch last night," Chessa admitted, blushing fiercely. "A sad lot of Saiyans we are—drunk last night and hung over this morning."

"Drunk?" Trunks asked, looking as though he wasn't sure whether or not he should be relieved by this revelation. "So, all that—"

"We should probably just pretend it never happened," the female said firmly. Now if only she could forget the embarrassment of almost kissing one of her best friends and actually kissing the other, things would be perfect. "None of us were really ourselves after we'd been at the punch for a while."

"Glad Mom'll never find out about this," Goten muttered, his hair drooping horribly. "I'd never be 'lowed out of the house again."

"And I don't really want to mess up our friendship because we were too stupid to just grab sodas," Chessa admitted. "That whole mess last night was really awkward."

"Understatement of the year," Trunks growled, his ears pink. "I feel like an idiot."

"So do I," Goten whined. "A sore idiot. An idiot punching bag." Trunks chuckled, earning himself a pained glare from Goten. "He's _your_ father—why did he have to wake _me_ up?"

"Because you appeared to be between him and something he wants," Trunks said with a shrug, leaning back and massaging his temples. "I always wondered why everyone was so quiet the second day of school."

"Oh, good," Chessa said almost cheerfully. "We won't stick out at all, then."

"We won't stick out if you do something about your tail," Trunks corrected. Sticking out her tongue at Trunks, Chessa wrapped her tail around her waist, tucking it under her hoodie. Jackets, sweaters, and buttoned or zippered sweatshirts were allowed with their uniform, and Chessa intended to hide in hers all day. "And what about PE?"

"Those shirts are baggy enough to hide my tail," Chessa scoffed. "I don't feel like wearing that stupid tail capsule today. If I have problems with the shirt, I'll wear my hoodie during gym, too. It's not like I'll overheat."

"I don' either," Goten said, his tail coming out from under his sweater.

Trunks laughed, then winced, looking as though he severely regretted that action. "I've got mine out, too," he admitted, letting it out from under his long-sleeved shirt.

Chessa giggled, ignoring the slight increase of the pain in her head. "Hungover, tails out, and tired. If we're going to mess up and let the whole world know what we are, today's the day."

"We're only half ailen," Trunks pointed out teasingly. "It's you who's the real monster."

"Please, monster, me?" Chessa batted her eyes, then grimaced. "Though Selene might think so, seeing as she's definitely got the hots for Mr. Briefs."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "I've been avoiding her for as long as she's been after me; it's not like you really made any difference in that department. She's greedy, self-centered, and completely empty-headed." He shoved himself up from the table, offering Chessa a hand. "Come on—we're going to be late."

Chessa didn't even bother trying to keep Trunks from claiming her bag, and she refrained from objecting to him scooping her into his arms as well. Goten was too pained and groggy to really notice what was going on around him, and it wasn't until they were already in the air that Chessa remembered Nimbus.

She really could have done this on her own. Nimbus would hide out until she called him after school, and no one would be the wiser. Being in Trunks' arms like this reminded her of one of those unnaturally clear memories of the night before. Dancing with him, their eyes locked, his breath on her lips—she tried to shove the image away. And after that, she had kissed Goten. Everything about that memory was as clear, as sharply detailed as the first. When Trunks set her down in a patch of trees on the school lawn, she was blushing brightly. He took one look at her, blushed, and studiously looked away. It seemed his memories of the more embarrassing portion of the party were as clear as hers were.

"My vote is for never getting drunk again," Trunks muttered gruffly. "I don't think I like it, and I definitely don't like the next morning."

Chessa laughed weakly. "Sounds like a plan. Don't you think so, Goten?" The poor, abused idiot of a punching bag just grunted. "I guess you don't like Vegeta or alcohol right now." Another grunt.

The bell rang shortly after the three had taken their seats, causing the majority of the class to wince. There were a few stragglers that stumbled in after the bell. The teacher sighed, but he seemed to know to expect this on the second day of term. "Well, class, I hope you all enjoyed your first day of school. It's time to be on with the second! English out, now!"

A chorus of groans met that command, and someone called the teacher a sadist, but Takahashi-sensei paid them no mind. There was a great deal of reluctant rustling, and then an English text sat on every desk. "Now, lesson one. This should be review, people! Pair off and practice!"

As if by mutual agreement not to have anything happen that might bring up the awkwardness of the party, Trunks and Goten paired up, leaving Chessa to find her own partner. For a moment she was at a loss, until she noticed a little girl with enormous blue-gray eyes and short black hair sitting quietly in the corner. Smiling, Chessa stood up and walked over to her.

"I'm Chessa Ohanzee," she offered, smiling cheerily at the girl. Her headache was already disappearing—thank the godess for Saiyan metabolism.

"I know," the girl said in a tiny voice. She was silent for a moment, and then apparently decided that Chessa wasn't going to go away. "I am Manatsu Yuki, Ohanzee-san."

For a moment Chessa was confused, and then she remembered a discussion she'd had with Bulma about suffixes. They weren't really commonly used anymore (though from overhearing some Anime-centric nerds at her old high school, she was fairly certain they were in her native reality) but some traditionalists still used them. "Chan, please. Chessa-chan. I am more comfortable being called by my personal name, if it doesn't offend you, Manatsu-chan." Yuki nodded, and Chessa was fairly certain that was all she was going to get out of the girl at the moment. "How would you like to be my partner?" Yuki nodded again, and Chessa sat down. It seemed that she'd found the class mouse.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I admit it! Manatsu-chan's eyes are a result of the first half of _Memoirs of a Geisha_. I want to see the rest … Anyway, Manatsu Yuki is a traditional Japanese schoolgirl crossed with the shiest little nerd in your class. And I have plans for her. Evil plans. And while you're wondering what those evil plans are (and I'm wondering how much they'll change), do me a favor. Go to my profile and read and review _Paired to a T_. My little brother really wants some reviews. 


	15. Mousetrap

**Pacifist**

Chapter 15—Mousetrap

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

"Remind me again why we're risking Father's anger?" Trunks asked, peering over Chessa's shoulder and around the corner of the school.

"She's the mouse," Chessa informed him. "I've known her for a month now. Believe me, you'll really like Manatsu-chan once you get her to open up a little. And every mouse is a little odd. She'll take the whole alien thing just fine."

Trunks sighed, shaking his head. "And we get Goten involved _after_ things get settled. No reason to brave Chi-Chi's wrath before we have to."

"Exactly," Chessa said with a grin. "And if she turns out to be—I don't know—some sort of bizarre giant insect out to kill all humans, you've got my back." She grimaced slightly. "Speaking of which, you don't have to stand quite so close while we're waiting for her to come out. You're tickling my ear every time you breathe."

Trunks blushed slightly, stepping back. It was obvious that his thoughts had flashed to the party that neither they nor Goten had mentioned since the morning after, and Chessa did her best to ignore his reaction. "Sorry about that," he muttered gruffly, straightening his shirt unnecessarily.

"Wait, here she comes!" Chessa said brightly, grabbing Trunks' hand and dragging him with her as she hurried over to Yuki, who had her nose firmly planted in a thick book. She looked up when Chessa cleared her throat, and when she saw who it was her irritation was replaced with a tiny smile.

"Chessa-chan and Briefs-san." The little mouse of a girl bowed to the pair in greeting before turning her full attention to Chessa. "I knew you would eventually drag me off to spend time with your other friends, but I really expected to face both of those monsters at the same time."

Trunks snorted, earning an elbow in the ribs from Chessa. "Goten-kun had to get home. His mother can be very strict."

Yuki nodded, closing her book around a ribbon she pulled out of her hair and tucking it into her messenger bag. "The infamous Chi-Chi-san I have heard so much about. I do not have plans this afternoon, Chessa-chan."

"I was fairly certain that you didn't. Would you like to come home with Trunks-kun and I?" Chessa smiled, adding, "Bulma-san has been wanting to meet you, Manatsu-chan."

Yuki perked, suddenly much more interested in the proposed visit. "You live in the Capsule Corp. building, correct?"

Chessa nodded. "There's something we have to tell you first, however," she said warmly, hoping that she wouldn't frighten her human friend. She stopped in the trees, turning to face Yuki seriously. "And you have to promise to keep our secret."

The tiny traditionalist gave Chessa a deeper bow than was her norm. "You know my view on secrets, Ohanzee-san. You have my word that unless it must be otherwise, I will take your secret with me to the grave."

Chessa could feel Trunks' eyes widen in disbelief at this spectacle, but she ignored him as she returned Yuki's bow. "I thank you, Manatsu-san. Your word honors me." Then she straightened, reached behind herself, and removed the flat capsule over her tail, exposing it for her little friend to see. "I am an alien, Manatsu-chan, though at the same time I am a native of this world. My own story is complicated. I am a member of a dying race called the Saiyans. Trunks and Goten are both hybrids, their fathers Saiyan and their mothers human." Trunks exposed his tail as well, though a touch reluctantly.

Much to the demi-Saiyan's surprise, Yuki simply nodded. "This is as this is. I have suspected for some time that there was a colony of aliens protecting Earth. What is known of those who have attacked in the past, there is no way that Hercule Satan could have been the one to defeat them."

"Videl isn't that bad a fighter, and while Father still doesn't like Hercule, the idiot has become tollerable," Trunks drawled, shrugging sheepishly at the flat looks he received from the girls. "Let's get home, then. We might as well get Father finding out we told someone over with. Especially since it's officially all my fault." He moved to pick up Chessa, only to have her shake her head firmly.

"I have Nimbus, as you so often 'forget,'" she reminded him. "Manatsu-chan can't fly at all."

Trunks turned his attention to the tiny human girl as Chessa called the cloud. "I'll have to hold you in my arms," he told the girl—she wouldn't be any burden at all. She definitely weighed less than Chessa, and the Saiyan female was a light—but decidedly pleasant—weight in his arms. "What would you like me to call you?"

"I am Manatsu Yuki," the girl said, walking shyly over to stand in front of the hulking teen. "You may call me Manatsu-chan, as Chessa-chan does, Briefs-san."

"Trunks," he corrected, scooping up the feather of a girl. "You feel like you're going to float right out of my arms!" Yuki blushed, and Trunks pointedly ignored that it was likely his comment on how light she was that had caused it, choosing to address the other issue instead. "We go by first names for the most part. My parents will be more comfortable with you calling them Bulma and Vegeta." Not that his father had a last name as such. "Saiyans don't have last names, unless you count the 'no Saiyan' of the royal line, and the whole gang is too close to bother with formality, even with new friends."

"I understand, Trunks-san," Yuki said in a voice that matched her weight. "Royal line?"

"My father is the Prince of all Saiyans," Trunks informed her. "We're almost there. So technically he's Vegeta no Saiyan or Saiyan no Ouji if you want the title, but there's only seven people with Saiyan blood alive. He's a bit gruff, but you'll get used to him."

"Oh." Her eyes clouded, Yuki let Trunks set her down on the Capsule Corp. lawn. "I see, Trunks-san."

"Kun!" Chessa told the girl, stepping off of her fluffy white cloud. "If you call him 'san' all the time his head will get too big to fit through the doors."

"I will try and remember that, Chessa-chan," the little human mumbled, feeling distinctly overwhelmed. Aliens she could deal with. But princes and first names and only a minimal honorific was starting to get to be too much. "Is there any other royalty I should know about?"

Chessa arched an eyebrow at Trunks, who shrugged in mild confusion. "Well, Chi-Chi is the princess of the Ox Kingdom, but there haven't been any people living in that kingdom since she was born. Her father was always a bit over-protective of her."

"So Trunk-kun is a prince, and Goten-san—kun—is a prince," Yuki said, closing her eyes. This really was just too much. "I suppose you're royalty, too?"

"No, I'm just a witch who accidentally transported herself here from another world," Chessa said. It was better to let Manatsu-chan digest this all at once and get it over with. "I was born human. Another side-effect of my messed-up spell."

"I—I see." Yuki strode purposefully towards the enormous building—surely things couldn't get any more complicated!

"Brats!" Trunks and Chessa exchanged looks, and Yuki whimpered. A short, dark, pointy-haired man (1) was glaring at them from the doorway. "Why is there a human weakling with you?"

"She's a friend," Chessa told him defiantly, taking a small step to the side to stand in front of Yuki. "We were not told not to bring friends here. In fact, Bulma seems to think we should do so more often, and she wanted to meet Manatsu-chan."

"I'll keep her from getting into anything she shouldn't, Father," Trunks said, sounding as though he was laying his life on the line. "And she's much quieter than Goten."

"You must be Vegeta-sama," Yuki said softly, peering out from behind the two Saiyan teens and bowing to the arrogant, irritable man before them. "I thank you for allowing me into your home."

For a brief moment smug satisfaction flickered across the Saiyan no Ouji's face. "Hn," was his only verbal response, but as he turned to stalk back inside his tail was held high, the end cocked at a jaunty angle.

Chessa and Trunks exchanged bemused looks, continuing their trek towards the house and up to the game room. "And no one has thought of appealing to that enormous ego of his before," Trunks muttered, just a little awed. "I think he might actually like you, Manatsu-chan—not that he'd ever admit it."

"I just gave him the respect due a prince," Yuki told them, confused, as she took a seat on one of the lush couches. "Even if he doesn't have many subjects—and most of those are royalty in their own right—he's still a prince."

The Saiyans shook their heads again, sharing their disbelief with a look. The respect due a prince? Well, if it kept him from blasting their new friend to pieces …

* * *

(1) Shamelessly ripped off from the title of _Short, Dark, Pointy-Haired Man Banned from Disney World_. It's hilarious, and you can find the link in my favorites—I strongly recommend it. 


	16. Girls' Day Out

**Pacifist**

Chapter 16—Girls' Day Out

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

"Oh no, none of that technical stuff!" Chessa put her hands on her hips in mock-firmness, smirking at Bulma and Yuki. "Bra may like following the parts of it she understands, but I don't, and we're here to have fun. Look—clothes stores!"

Bulma laughed at the Saiyan girl's attempt to distract her from her in-depth discussion with Yuki. "What, did you think that I was going to give up another chance to pick your fascinating friend's brain?" she asked, blue eyes twinkling

"When it comes to a shopping trip?" Chessa asked the female scientist. "Yeah, I did. Besides, finding dresses for Yuki-chan and I to wear to the Spring Masquerade might have been the excuse, but I know you, Bulma. You can hardly wait to find yourself a new pair of shoes to go with that dress you got for your birthday last week."

Bulma smiled fondly, smoothing the dress in question over her hips. "Vegeta did an amazingly good job this year," she murmured, preening. It would have just been a classic 'little black dress' if not for the delicate black-on-black embroidery around the hem; apparently the intricate design was a private message in the Saiyan tongue.

"Goku just might be right about your mate being a softy underneath," Chessa observed with a smirk.

"Just don't let him hear you say that," Bulma confided. "It works best if you don't make a big deal of it when he's sweet—at least not in public."

Chessa groaned. "Too much information, really. I just want to pretend that Trunks and Bra—and the fact that you're his mate—doesn't mean that Vegeta has ever done _that_." The other girls laughed, and Chessa shook her head. "Really, I don't want to know. He's—Vegeta!"

"The Saiyan no Ouji and old enough to be your father," Yuki noted. "It's understandable, but it's still funny. And thank you again, Bulma-san, for offering to buy me a dress."

Bulma brushed off the girl's thanks. "It's no big deal, really. I have plenty of money and shopping is more fun when you don't have to worry about the price." Giggling, the girls wandered into Bulma's favorite dress store.

"Mrs. Briefs!" a salesman exclaimed the moment they were through the door. "How nice to see you again!"

"Hello, Thomas," Bulma greeted warmly, giving him a half-hug. "You remember my friend, Chessa Ohanzee?"

"Of course, of course," Thomas answered, eyes bright at the prospect of the sale he'd make. "It seems you have a new friend brave enough to shop with you!"

"This is Manatsu Yuki," Bulma replied, pulling the petite girl forward. "Tsu-chan, Thomas Raine. He always takes excellent care of us when we come shopping here."

"The pleasure is mine, Manatsu-san," Thomas murmured, bowing respectfully. "What can I help you ladies find today?"

"Chessa and Tsu-chan are going to the Spring Masquerade at Orange Star with my son and his best friend," Bulma told him, opening her bag and searching for something in it.

"Ah, gowns for the ball!" Thomas exclaimed, grinning. "More custom jobs for me?"

"It depends on what Tsu-chan is looking for," Bulma told him, still searching for whatever it was in her purse. "But Vegeta drew up something—ah, here we go!" She pulled out a slightly wrinkled piece of paper, smoothed it out, and handed it to the storekeeper. "My husband thought this was just right for Chessa, and I think she'll look spectacular in it."

"He _what_?" Chessa exclaimed, peering at the paper that Bulma had given the man. "He can draw?"

"Don't underestimate him," Bulma said with a wink. "He said that it was a good night for you to show your heritage."

"My heritage?" Chessa demanded.

"I'll tell you in a bit," Bulma murmured. "You think you can do it, Thomas?"

"It's not that difficult a design, but your husband is a hard man to please," the man told her, ignoring Chessa as she peered at the dress detailed on the sheet of paper. "It's absolutely fabulous, for all its simplicity—she's going to knock them dead at that ball. Do I need to do the tail?"

"We have that part taken care of," Bulma said with a chuckle. "The color?"

"It's an interesting shade of blue," he responded. "Sort of a mix between indigo and cobalt …" he trailed off, turning to examine Chessa. "I think it will look stunning on her. Now, it's not going to stay up easily, especially since he's restricted the materials I can use. It will definitely be a challenge … I'll need both Vegeta and Chessa both for at least one of the fittings, to make sure he is pleased with the result."

Bulma nodded. "Of course—you always need Vegeta for any job he has you do. He already has the jeweled flowers. He said he'll bring them to the fitting."

"The shoes and jewelry—are you going to be using Stefan?" Thomas asked.

"Of course," Bulma said, smiling. "Tsu-chan, come talk to Thomas." Shoving the tiny high school girl forward, the president of Capsule Corp. turned to the young Saiyan woman. "You were wondering about the dress, and why Vegeta has taken this sudden interest in what you wear."

"To put it mildly," Chessa answered irritably.

Bulma smiled. "It's the traditional dress of the first class Saiyan females," she told the irate girl. "I know you don't know much about Saiyan culture, but has Trunks mentioned classes at all to you?" Chessa nodded, and Bulma grinned in return. "There is the Royal line, the first class, and on to the third class. Then there are their untouchables, though it might be better to call them _unmentionables_. Their very existence is denied by those above them. For the most part you are born into one class, though criminals can be shunted to the lowest caste, and one is occasionally raised in class. Since you weren't born Saiyan, though, you didn't fall into the caste system. Vegeta has now given you a place in Saiyan society and named you a woman, old enough to take a mate."

Chessa nodded slowly, wide-eyed. "So … I'm first class, and of mating age?"

"Exactly."

Sitting heavily in one of the comfortable chairs along the wall, Chessa shook her head slowly. "It's so … but the Saiyan no Ouji has spoken." She bit her lip, given Bulma a nervous smile. "And unless Goku challenges him for the title, Vegeta has the right to place me in the caste. Instincts reinforcing the society—that's not exactly fair."

Bulma shrugged. "Maybe the society grew around the instincts."

"Probably," the newly first class Saiyan admitted. "We should save Yuki-chan before Thomas completely overwhelms her." Bulma chuckled, following Chessa over to their friend. To their surprise, it seemed the usually mousy girl didn't need saving after all.

"You should at least show some cleavage if you're going to be in your friend Chessa's company," Thomas insisted. "We wouldn't want her to outshine you!"

"Chessa-chan is as she is," Yuki said, smiling at Bulma and Chessa as they joined her. "I wish the dress I have described."

Thomas sighed, nodding. "If I cannot convince you otherwise, then I will have the dress ready for the final fitting in a week. The first will be day after tomorrow, if you please."

With a triumphant smile, Yuki turned to the other two women. "Now that we have that settled, let's get shopping."

"Measurements first," Bulma reminded them, smiling at the mournful man and nodding to a short stool they hadn't noticed before. "Let Thomas get what he needs to create your gowns."

"I'll go first," Yuki volunteered. "So I can discuss how the gown is to fit in more depth before I forget." Bulma chuckled and Chessa waved absently. After giving her best friend a concerned glance, the unusually boisterous little woman stepped onto the stool. Chessa would talk about what was wrong when she was ready … or Yuki would convince her that she was ready to talk.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Breanna Tala is queen. Someone should send her kudos. Or just that really, really, really good 85 cocoa dark chocolate … but not out of my stash. 


	17. Topsy Turvy

**Pacifist**

Chapter 17—Topsy-Turvy

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

"The world makes quite an interesting picture when you turn it upside down," Chessa mused, her head dangling over the foot of her bed as she watched a toy lizard slink in a circle on the floor. "Things really are turning themselves upside down again, aren't they? I suppose they'll go top over tail again and again before settling down to whatever way they think right."

A new world, a new home, new friends—and now this. Whatever she intended, she was falling into her place among the few Saiyans that remained; her place as it was defined by Vegeta. First class, and of mating age … if it wasn't for the fact that Bulma was his mate, she'd suspect he was grooming her to be his mate. But that was impossible, and she really couldn't think what else he might have up his sleeve.

Sighing, Chessa stood up and padded over to her window. The only light outside came from the stars and the streetlights across the broad lawn of the Capsule Corp. building. It was quiet out there, peaceful. Perhaps a walk at nine thirty p.m. in the city by one's self wasn't the best idea, but she was feeling rather cooped up, and she was Saiyan … surely she could take care of herself. With that decided, Chessa pulled on the shoes she'd worn that day, grabbed her jacket, and threw her window opened. Only pausing to turn out her light, the Saiyan woman slipped out her window and made her careful way to the ground.

Once outside Chessa strode across the lawn, and then set off down the sidewalk. There was enough light from the lamps overhead and the traffic passing her by that the witch could see well, but it was dark enough that a human would think her tail was just a trick of the light. She was glad to be able to let it trail behind her, turning inward as she made her way farther from the safety of her home.

It was as if the moment that she had arrived in this place, the world had began to test her to see if she was good enough to exist in this reality. Chessa had to admit that at first she would not have cared if she had been sent back home. But now … now this was her home. She had friends that loved her better than her family ever had. They cared for her, included her, and accepted her, eccentricities and all.

As much as she would miss Bulma, Bra, Yuki, Goku, Chi-Chi, and even Vegeta if she were somehow called back to her native Earth, it as nothing beside how she would feel about losing her two best friends. Trunks and Goten were fun, smart, protective—and she cared deeply for both of them. If there was one thing she would like doing least in this world, it would be choosing between them. As loath as she was to admit it, however, there was a possibility of that happening.

Chessa heaved a sigh, turning her face up towards the star-speckled sky for a moment, wondering why she could see the heavens so well. A cursory survey of her surroundings revealed that she must have walked farther than she had thought, for her surroundings were much poorer quality than the buildings around Capsule Corp. There were fewer streetlights here than there had been when she set out; there were only two in view and one was broken, jagged glass hanging in the dark. She stopped under the other, which flickered fitfully, and was trying to assess from the stars which way she should travel to get home; she had turned corners at random during her outward trek.

A hand shot out of the shadows to close around her left wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. While the young woman was still stunned, a face broke through the edge of the fitful lamplight. Alcohol was strong on the breath emitting from the thin-lipped mouth; the grin revealed uneven yellow teeth. A bold nose and small, glassy gray eyes were mashed onto the waxy face, straw thrown on top for hair.

"Pretty girl," the man slurred, grinning drunkenly at Chessa as he tried to drag her closer. "Pretty girl, I have something to show you."

Her body froze at the vagabond's clumsy words. She knew she had to break free and run, but her body wouldn't move. Then he managed to get her to stumble forward, and her momentary paralysis vanished. She screamed, the noise like the voice of some twisted mating of a banshee and a fury. She moved to claw at the hand on her wrist and found her other wrist held, now, too; still she flailed, trying to break free.

"Strong 'un," the drunkard grunted, tightening his grip on her wrists. "Come on, pretty girlie. Come with Maphas."

Chessa screamed again, desperately trying to pull her wrists from his grip. He was going to drag her off, and there wasn't anything that she could do about it. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

Suddenly, a large form entered the light and struck Maphas across the back of the head. The drunk hit the ground like a felled tree and Chessa wasn't far behind, curling into a protective ball with her hands over her head, tail tucked in around her legs.

There was a moment of silence, and then the crunching of boots on debris reached the Saiyan's ears. She flinched as the sound stopped, the huge man who had assaulted her attacker right in front of her. He shifted, and then a gentle hand rested on the young woman's hair.

"Hey. Don't be afraid."

Inhailing sharply, Chessa raised her head tentatively. Her eyes agreed with her nose and her ears; Trunks was crouching in front of her, concern etched on his face. She shot up and wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing uncontrollably onto his shoulder.

"Shh, you're safe," Trunks murmured, one arm going around her waist as he stroked her hair gently. "He can't get you. I won't let him touch you."

"Is he—is he dead?" Chessa sniffled between sobs. Her grip on the demi-Saiyan tightened, stretching the fabric of his shirt across his back. She had to know, but neither answer would be a good one.

"No," the man holding her told her. "I didn't think you'd want me to kill him. I'll call the police and tell them he's here, but they can't really do more than shake him up a bit unless you want to step forward."

The girl shook her head violently, burying her face against his strong shoulder. "I don't ever want to see him again," Chessa said, her voice muffled by her position. "Please—just take me home."

She felt Trunks nod, and then he stopped stroking her hair to scoop her up into his arms. Holding her close, he took off, flying through the darkness to Chessa's window. Once inside, he shut and locked the window without setting the traumatized woman down. Then he sat on the couch with her still in his arms and held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her while still communicating the tenderness of his feelings.

In a safe place with Trunks to protect her, what little control Chessa had retained dissolved. She sobbed for what seemed like an eternity, clinging to her protector. Eventually she fell asleep, exhausted, with tears still wet on her cheeks. Trunks continued to hold her long after she had fallen asleep; he didn't want her to wake up alone and afraid.

Half an hour after she fell asleep, Trunks stood and carried his friend over to her bed. He carefully removed her shoes and placed them just inside her closet. Then he tucked her, still dressed, under her blankets. He hesitated for a moment, brushing her hair out of her face, then leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss in the middle of her pale forehead.

With Chessa comfortable, the younger prince returned to the couch under the window, sitting down to keep watch while she slept. He turned off all of the lights except for a lamp beside the sofa, stretched his legs out in front of him, and settled his violet eyes on the beautiful young woman that had stumbled into his life such a short time ago. Despite how short a time it had been, he would fight with everything he had against anyone or anything that tried to take her away. If he hadn't noticed her leaving and followed her …

Gritting his teeth, Trunks refrained from punching anything and shoved that train of thought out of his head. He had to stay with her in case she had nightmares and needed him; unless some terror woke her, however, he would not disturb her sleep because he was scared for her. He sat there in silence for some time before he started snoring softly himself.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ah, feelings and the world, all topsy-turvy! Well, now that we know how Trunks feels, and how Chessa feels, that just leaves us wondering about Goten! 


	18. The Pacifist's Fight

**Pacifist**

Chapter 18—The Pacifist's Fight

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

The sound of soft snores greeted Chessa as she woke, her face still sore from crying so much the night before. Blinking with the oddly sticky eyes of someone who has used too many tears, she propped herself up on her elbows to seek the source of the sound. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it wasn't Trunks with his head dropped onto the back of her sofa, mouth open, a little trail of drool on his cheek.

"Trunks?" she asked, her voice slightly slurred with drowsy confusion. "What are y' doing in my room?"

"Huh?" Trunks jerked up into something a little more like a sitting position, blinking owlishly at the girl on the bed. "Wha' time 's it?"

"Morning, sometime." Chessa stretched slowly upward, letting her blankets fall away. "Why are you here?" she repeated, coming over to drop unceremoniously on the couch next to him. Still groggy, the Saiyan woman rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling against him.

Trunks stiffened for a moment, coming awake much more quickly than Chessa and then wrapped a companionable arm around her. "I wanted to be here in case you needed me," he told her softly. His grip tightened spontaneously as he flashed back to how he'd found her the night before, how scared _he_ had been as a result of her fear … "I didn't want you to be alone in the dark," he added quietly, the words barely escaping his lips.

Chessa stared in confusion for a moment, the end of his statement not reaching her ears. "Why would I—" then she flinched, pressing closer to him as she sought his protection. "How did you find me in time?" she whispered, fear edging her tone. If he hadn't come to save her … She shivered, trying not to think about that. She was helpless on her own, and it had been pure foolish pride to think otherwise.

"Saw you leaving," Trunks admitted, holding her firmly. He wasn't going to let anyone touch her; no one would ever hurt her. "I didn't want you running into trouble, so I followed you. But I didn't want you to find out if nothing happened, so I was back a bit." Not quite awake enough to care that he shouldn't, the prince pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Sorry it took me so long to get there."

"He didn't do anything but scare me," Chessa murmured, trying to smile to show him that she was all right; all she could manage was a sort of tense, sickly thing. "You got there in time."

"But what if I hadn't?" Trunks asked, forcing himself to loosen his grip on her. He wanted to keep holding her so that he would always know where she was, always know she was safe, but he pushed her gently back, holding her away from him with firm-but-gentle hands. "I don't even want to think about what he could have done to you, Chessa."

"I know," she said in a tiny voice, dropping her gaze to her lap. "I can't pretend everything is just like it was, can I? I have to at least know how to protect myself. I—" her voice broke, and she burst into tears. Trunks stared at the girl he held at arms' length, the girl he had only ever seen cry before when she'd been attacked. Sighing softly at his confusion over the Saiyan girl, Trunks wrapped her gently in his arms again, rocking her softly while she worked through … whatever it was.

After a few minutes, Chessa pulled back, wiping her eyes on her cuff. "I'll be all right; it's just not something I … want to do. But I have to be able to take care of myself." She visibly steeled herself, pushing her long hair out of her face. "I will do this. I have to do this. I have to be able to watch my own back at least well enough that my stupid Saiyan pride won't get me into trouble!" She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe evenly, and then stood. "Tell me what I need to do."

Trunks stood slowly, his eyes on hers, and reached around behind her. Carefully business like, he gathered her hair and wound it into a bun. Fetching pins from her vanity with his tail, he carefully secured it, and then stepped back. "Now that your hair is out of the way, we start with the basics. What I'm going to teach you, however, is harder than what I was learning when I started out." He paused, smiling reassuringly. "I'm going to teach you how to defeat your opponent without killing them, or even causing permanent damage. Even an idiot can kill, but it takes real skill to touch an armed enemy without putting a scratch on them and then get away to tell the tale."

The Wiccan nodded slowly, her eyes tight around the corners. "I understand … sensei."

Trunks blinked in surprise, his tail wrapping around her wrist as if it had a mind of its own. "Not sensei. Just Trunks, Chessa. Just Trunks."

Chessa grinned impishly, and for a moment she didn't look quite so much like she was going to face the headsman. "Imagine calling the man who is my prince and my teacher by his first name—how presumptuous!"

Trunks chuckled, shaking his head. "Some prince I am—my grandfather was the last king, and there are only eight Saiyans left including myself and my father! I am not your prince, just your friend. As for your teacher, I'm not your master. I'll just be a guide. You'll be doing all the hard work."

Chessa smiled, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Then she suddenly turned away from him, going over to her massive closet. "Gis aren't exactly built for women," she noted, rummaging through the clothes that filled an area the size of a small bedroom. "But we can probably find something in here that will do. Goddess knows I have more than enough clothes, what with Bulma and Bra in on the shopping."

"I'm the only sane one in the family," Trunks said smugly, coming over to help her search through her closet. "Here's a bag that you haven't even unpacked."

"Where from?" Chessa asked, her voice slightly muffled by the bag she was reaching the bottom of.

Trunks examined the outside of the lilac bag until he found a white logo with flowers and delicately scripted words in one corner. "Sarah's Simplicity," he read.

Chessa's head shot up out of the off-white bag she'd been digging through. "Don't look in there!" she commanded, her deep topaz eyes wide.

"Oh?" Trunks asked, smirking and moving to do just what she'd said not to.

"_Give_ me that!" she demanded, lunging forward to grab the bag. Chuckling, Trunks let her take it after only a moment's effort. With the bag in her possession, she clutched it to her chest and turned away from him as if to hide the bag from view. "Sarah's Simplicity is a _lingerie_ store," she hissed, tail lashing. "Shoo! I'll find something on my own." Still chortling, Trunks held up his hands in defeat and backed out of her closet. "And shut the door! I'll change in here."

Trunks waited outside for a good ten minutes before the door opened, revealing Chessa in the clothes she had found to work out in. Her feet were bare, and she wore a pair of loose drawstring pants and a sports bra, both in black; he was amused to spot a small white flower entwined with an _SS_ on the bra. "That should do," he said approvingly, then motioned to her bedroom door. "Outside for now; the gravity room can wait until later."

Chessa blinked. "Won't things go faster in the gravity chamber?"

"Not when you know absolutely nothing about fighting," Trunks pointed out. "And besides, right now you're not looking for strength. You need precision. I doubt raw strength will ever be as important for your style as it is for most of us. You need to worry more about developing a meticulous control that will make my father look sloppy."

"I—I see," she replied quietly, wide-eyed at the enormity of the task before her.

Trunks smiled sympathetically. "I told you it was going to be hard," he told her gently. "But it will be worth it if you really want to keep from harming anyone."

"I do," Chessa responded fiercely, following Trunks out of her room. "'An' it _harm none_, do what ye will.'"

"'And it harm none' … I wish more people thought that way." Trunks smiled wistfully, letting the door to the witch's room close behind him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Finally! I almost feel like I've been slacking because I didn't finish a chapter yesterday … and now it's time for me to hurry off to work. 


	19. Precision

**Pacifist**

Chapter 19—Precision

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

Ground and center … become one with yourself, and then the world around you. It was a familiar concept, and Chessa had assumed that she had already mastered the skill. Then Trunks started to train her, and she found out exactly how sloppy her attempts at oneness had been.

"Now open your eyes, Chessa," Trunks ordered, and the Saiyan woman slowly opened them, oddly relaxed. It was as though she was aware of everything and nothing; thoughts and feelings were unimportant, and she was calm and balanced, as well rooted as an ancient tree. Trunks was smiling at her, and a distant sort of pleasure at his approval rippled across the surface of her being. "It's not perfect yet—it takes you too long to get to this state, and I could undoubtedly shatter it with little effort. But good job; you just need practice now. In time, the only thing that will shake you out of this is a reaction strong enough that you'll be going Super Saiyan, anyway."

Random, flippant thoughts scuttled across the surface of her mind like insects, and Chessa ignored them. They did not matter; she simply nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"We will be using the gravity chamber, soon—probably by the beginning of next week," he told her, standing close behind her and reaching down for her leg. "Time for stretches. Flexibility can be useful, especially when your opponent expects you to be focused on your strength." He lifted her leg, helping her stretch farther than she could have on her own. For the next several minutes they worked on her flexibility, and then Trunks stepped back.

With her limberness training done, it was time to move on to the few moves that Trunks had already taught her. Chessa fell easily into the stance he had drilled into her, and waited for him to attack as he had before. Then she felt a power signal approaching, however, and turned towards it. Trunks smiled at her response to the incoming power, giving her a warm, "Very good."

A moment later Goten landed, dressed in a hooded black jumpsuit with red circles marked on it. Chessa examined it silently then spoke for the first time since Trunks had directed her to begin her meditation. "Pressure points," she noted emotionlessly.

"Exactly, Chessa," Trunks said with a nod. "Besides being used to stop bleeding, these points will cause the most pain with the least actual damage. If you land a blow—or even a sharp jab—on one of those points, you're likely going to be able to get away. Unlike organ position, these points are the same for all humanoids. Sometimes you will face natural defenses, and sometimes there will be more sensitive points for you to exploit."

"Such as the Saiyan's tail," Chessa said dryly.

Goten chuckled. "It's a bit odd to see our little Chessa all blank like this," he observed. "She's usually so lively!"

Trunks smirked, smacking Goten on the back of his head. "This is the exercise," he said. "Chessa, you will aim for Goten's pressure points. He will be trying to dodge at a reasonable speed. No blocks." He shot a sideways glance at the oddly dressed boy, then continued, "Goten, you will try and shake Chessa's calm. Break her out of this, and make her 'lively' again."

"Got it," Goten said with a smirk. "I'm looking forward to making her our Chessa again and not some overly-focused fighter."

Chessa said nothing, standing at the ready, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Trunks chuckled at Goten; the face that the dark-haired demi-Saiyan pulled at the female's lack of reaction was like that of a six-year-old who had just discovered that his mother had discovered his vegetable hiding place and he was going to have to eat them, after all.

"Begin," Trunks commanded loudly, backing off with a smirk. Goten had no idea what he was in for.

For a long moment neither moved. Then, more quickly than a human could have managed, Chessa feinted to the left. Trunks could almost hear the words he had spoken weeks ago when he had discussed tactics for the beginning of a battle. _"It is best to let the enemy begin so that you can judge their strength. You must be wary, however; some will seek to hide their strength. When you must be the first to strike, be like a serpent, swift and deadly from the beginning."_

Goten dodged, not expecting a feint out of Chessa, and she landed a jab with the heel of her hand on his right collar bone, cracking it and pressing the bone against the pressure point protected by the clavicle. The Son grunted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he began to take the exercise more seriously. When she stuck again he was ready and avoided the blow. As she attacked a third time, managing a glancing blow across his shoulder, Goten began to speak to her, too low for Trunks to hear.

"Do you really feel safe with him?" Goten asked, smirking as he dodged an incoming knee. "I've seen how he watches you while you practice, at school, any time he thinks he can get away with it. Trunks may be my best friend, but it's obvious that he wants you." He dodged a roundhouse kick followed by a lash from her tail; Chessa was ignoring his words. "I'm surprised that you can't feel his eyes on you."

_I've felt …_ Before the thought could even form fully, it had disappeared from Chessa's consciousness. Another piece of advice played from her memory, and the Saiyan woman executed a backflip, kicking towards Goten's nose as she sprung away from him. _"The enemy may try to distract you through taunts and threats. The most potent taunts have some truth in them, but the truth is blown out of proportion. Ignore all taunts and fight. Do not let yourself become distracted."_

"He's so enthralled by the simple things," Goten murmured, dodging Chessa's attack, keeping his eyes on her as she settled in to circle him. "He stares so when you push your hair behind your ear, your forehead wrinkled up as you concentrate on finding an answer in class." He barely dodged a butterfly kick that was meant to land on his temple, giving a hollow laugh as he did. "But I find it just as distracting when you bite the end of your pencil, so I don't really have that much room to talk."

Chessa's hand jabbed forward, heading for the side of the demi-Saiyan's neck. Instead of dodging, however, this time his hand shot up and grabbed the young woman's forearm solidly. Before she could react, Goten pulled her forward, wrapped his free arm around her waist, and kissed her.

All the calm and concentration she had so carefully built up shattered in a moment. She inhaled deeply, lifting her hands to his shoulders to push him away. But this was … nice. A much nicer kiss than the one at the party, the both of them drunk out of their minds, no thought at all. Her hands shifted slightly to rest on his shoulders, and slowly she began to respond to the kiss.

It wasn't until the kiss had ended and she was clinging, breathless, to the now wrinkled shoulders of Goten's strange target-suit that Chessa regained the ability to think. She had just kissed Goten in front of Trunks _again_. The first time they had been able to write it off, to blame the night, the alcohol, but this time … _Oh, Goddess, I can't choose between them. And not like this,_ she thought desperately. _Especially not like this._

"Trunks … " she said, turning slowly towards the other of her best friends, hoping there was some way she could salvage the friendship. _I knew he wanted me, just like I knew that Goten did. But I ignored it. I ignored it too long._ "Trunks, I—"

Trunks interrupted her with a firm-yet-gentle finger over her lips, closing her mouth with his thumb under her chin. "I'm happy for you," he said softly. He even sounded sincere, but she could see the hurt in his eyes, the caustic pain she had caused him. "I'm happy for both of you. I'll see you for training tomorrow, all right, Chessa?" Without waiting for her response, he turned and strode back into Capsule Corp. Chessa watched him go, suppressed pain evident in his bravely squared shoulders, and then turned to Goten with her feelings of guilt clear in her dark eyes.

The demi-Saiyan pulled her into a hug, obviously feeling just as guilty. "I didn't mean to do that to him," he whispered, holding Chessa close. "He's been my best friend since—well, since I was born, really. But … I really like you, Chessa."

"I know," Chessa murmured. "I just didn't want to think about chasing one of you away by letting myself get closer to the other."

"But now we have to try this," Goten sighed, kissing Chessa's forehead lightly. "Trunks stepped out of the way so that we could."

Chessa nodded, rising onto her toes to kiss Goten softly. "We'll do everything we can to see if this is meant to be."

**Author's Note:** And that's the end! … No, not really, I'm not that mean. Just because she's dating Goten now (or something like that) doesn't mean this is done. There's still room for things to happen. There always is.


	20. Animal I Have Become

**Pacifist**

Chapter 20—Animal I Have Become

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them. "Animal I Have Become" is by Three Days Grace, and gets double credit—one for title awesomeness, another for lyrical awesomeness.

* * *

He could see her laughing, even if he couldn't hear her. Not that Goten and Chessa had pushed him away; Trunks just preferred to keep his distance while the two of them were doing couple things. He still got Chessa to himself while he was training her; shortly after the incident that had lead to the other two of the "Monstrous Trio" (as Yuki called them) becoming a couple, Trunks had indeed moved his sessions with Chessa into the Gravity chamber. She had barely made it to fifty times Earth gravity at this point, but her training had somehow managed to improve her already perfect physique.

When she had come downstairs for the dance, Trunks had been speechless. She was exquisite, from her intricately done hair (she had told him that Vegeta had done it while lecturing her on her position as a first class Saiyan woman) to the pleasant mounds of exposed cleavage and the leg shown off by the slit that ran almost all the way up her left thigh. He had wanted to take her in his arms despite the fact she was dating his best friend, press that flawless body to his, kiss her until she forgot about Goten, and then—

"They really are cute together," Yuki observed, pulling Trunks out of his memory. "And he makes her smile. Isn't that what you want for her?"

The girl was such a mouse that her speaking always surprised him; her observation was truly shocking. "Is it that obvious?" he asked quietly, not quite managing to pull his eyes away from Chessa's body as she danced with Goten.

"To me," the petite human answered. "I think that Chessa and Goten at least know that you like Chessa; they sometimes look guilty when you're not watching them. But then they seem determined."

"They love each other, and even when I try to stay out of the way, I'm in the way," Trunks sighed. "But I can't help hoping."

"The future isn't set, but this is their present," Yuki said firmly. "Try and be more supportive, and less … staring at her with stalker-eyes."

"'Stalker-eyes?'" Trunks asked, arching a violet eyebrow.

"Mm-hmm," Yuki confirmed. "Stalker-eyes. They're locked on target, boring into her, devouring her, and still so hungry for her. It would be romantic if it weren't creepy."

Trunks stared at Yuki for a moment, and then shook his head. "Yuki-chan, you truly are one of a kind."

"I do try," the girl said dryly, her usual formality set aside in favor of a facet of herself that Trunks wasn't sure he liked. She was much too observant, and she actually said what she was thinking. It was somewhat alarming, to say the least.

"I'm sure you do, and you definately could do with trying a little less," Trunks growled, though the sound was more distracted than actually dangerous. Yuki sighed, and Trunks could feel her eyes on the back of his neck. She was undoubtedly giving him one of those looks women had. And he didn't really want to turn around and see the nuances of this particular one.

"You love her," the petite girl said bluntly after several moments' silence. When Trunks just grunted, the little human reached up and did something that left him wide-eyed. She slapped him across the face, a full-armed slap that felt like a pat to the brawny Saiyan, but served to get his attention all the same.

For a moment he was speechless, gaping at Manatsu Yuki, and then he spluttered out, "What was _that_ for?"

Tsu-chan raised a delicate brow, brushing her bobbed back hair out of her face. "You're in denial at best. It's like watching a train wreck, and I'm sick of trying to keep up with the number of times this particular train has been derailed. You're a wreck, and something really needs to be done about it."

"I'm not—" but Trunks was interrupted as the little woman reached up to put her fingers over his lips, nodding towards a nearby loud speaker as though the song that had just started held some hidden meaning.

_I can't escape this hell  
__So many times I've tried  
__But I'm still caged inside  
__Somebody get me through this nightmare  
__I can't control myself_

"What—" Trunk tried again, only to have the girl he was with arch an eyebrow at him. It seemed that she was becoming less entrenched in forgotten traditions every time he saw her, and the demi-Saiyan prince wasn't sure he liked the change.

_So what if you can see  
__The darkest side of me  
__No one will ever change this animal I have become  
__Help me believe  
__It's not the real me  
__Somebody help me tame this animal  
__This animal, this animal!_

That slim black eyebrow was still raised, as though waiting for him to see something obvious. But what women found obvious was rarely so for men, and with a sigh Tsu-chan was obliged to explain. "They could be talking about you, don't you think? You're afraid to step in, to push too hard. You're afraid that you'll turn into your father at his worst. You know it's in you, and you want to hide your darkest side from Chessa. You don't want her to see the animal you have become, but at the same time she's the only one who can tame the beast."

_I can't escape myself  
__So many times I've lied  
__But there's still rage inside  
__Somebody get me through this nightmare  
__I can't control myself_

"You're wrong," Trunks growled, stiffening angrily, indignantly—there was no way he could let her know how close she had come to the truth. "She obviously wants Goten, not me. I'm just respecting that."

Yuki chuckled, shaking her head as she started dancing—just for a moment—as though to show Trunks that even she had a wild side. As she did so, she sang along with the chorus, her voice a high and sweet compliment to the recorded rock. Those gray eyes were locked with Trunks' violet gaze, as though to emphasize the words of the song and how they applied to Trunks.

_So what if you can see  
__The darkest side of me  
__No one will ever change this animal I have become  
__Help me believe  
__It's not the real me  
__Somebody help me tame this animal  
__This animal, this animal!_

"I am not an animal," Trunks growled, eyes narrowed. Had he possessed an animal's ears, they would have been flattened against his skull. His tail, free because of the costume element of the dance, was lashing behind him and completed the image of an angry cat. A girl with amazingly realistic butterfly wings winked at him over the shoulder of the boy she was dancing with, but he barely noticed.

Yuki laughed, shaking her head. "We're all animals, Trunks."

Glowering, he persisted. "I'm not going to step between my two best friends."

"They're only trying so hard because you stepped out of the way," Yuki told him, that eyebrow arched again.

_Help me believe  
__It's not the real me  
__Somebody help me tame this animal  
__Somebody help me through this nightmare  
__I can't control myself  
__Somebody wake me from this nightmare  
__I can't escape this hell  
__This animal, this animal, this animal, this animal  
__This animal, this animal, this animal, this animal_

Trunks just stared, agape, for several moments. "Wha-what do you mean?"

_So what if you can see  
__The darkest side of me  
__No one will ever change this animal I have become  
__Help me believe  
__It's not the real me  
__Somebody help me tame this animal  
__This animal, this animal!_

"I've been talking to Chessa," Yuki said mildly, the fact that she had to work to keep from grinning all too obvious. "It's what friends do. Especially female friends when a girl feels caught between her other two best friends."

"She's not—" Trunks began, and was promptly interrupted.

"She is," Yuki said firmly. "Goten is crushing on her, and the kisses are nice—but you're being all awkward. And she knows very well that you like her at least as much as Goten does."

Trunks stared for a moment, then shook his head, his keeping his lips sealed.

_Help me believe  
__It's not the real me  
__Somebody help me tame this animal!  
__This animal I have become_

With the song over, Yuki stretched up onto her toes to pat Trunks on the cheek. "I think I'll go and steal Goten for a bit. Just because he's more willing to make the leap for whatever reason, it doesn't mean that you're out of the game."

Before Trunks could object, she'd slipped off towards Goten and Chessa. He stared in horror as she spoke brightly (but too quietly to carry) to his two best friends. Then Chessa was walking towards him, smiling, and he knew he'd lost this round. There was no way that he'd be able to tell her no—not if she wanted a dance, and not if she wanted him to cut his own heart out and fix it for her breakfast.

For a long moment after she reached him, Chessa just stood there, eyes lowered as though she was unsure what to do, what to say. The music was lost to the demi-Saiyan as he stared at her, his blood pounding in his ears. Just as when she had come down the stairs earlier that night, Trunks couldn't concentrate on anything else. Nothing else existed.

"Yu-chan … it was her idea," Chessa murmured awkwardly, pushing an imagined hair out of her face. "But it's a good one. You've been so … distant."

"I know," Trunks said, his throat dry. And then, because he couldn't stop himself even though she was going out with Goten, he kissed her, his lips moving against hers hungrily for a brief moment.

However brief it was, the kiss was still enough to take Chessa's breath away. She stared at Trunks as she struggled to regain some composure, her big dark eyes even larger than normal. "I—wow," she breathed finally, slowly relaxing the death grip she didn't remember initiating on Trunk's forearm.

"I know," Trunks agreed, his hands still resting on the thin silk of the dress that was the only barrier between his hands and her supple hips. His eyes squeezed closed for a moment, and then he gazed at Goten and Yuki, talking and laughing across the dance floor; it seemed they hadn't noticed a thing. "I shouldn't have."

Chessa's eyes were unreadable; and for a moment she was silent. She bit her lower lip softly, thinking, and then opened her soft mouth. "Sometimes you just get to the point where you have to take what you want," she said gently, the intoxicating sound of her voice barely reaching his ears.

_What you want. Take what you want._ The words echoed around Trunks' mind, making his throat go dry; he thought he might drown in those dark eyes. Then, almost as though Yuki was speaking in his ear, another thought slid through his head. _So what if she will see the darkest part of you? Only she can tame this animal you have become.

* * *

_

**Author's Note:** Well, this is one of those chapters where you can tell what I've been doing recently. I just finished _Bag of Bones_ (my first Stephen King novel) and out comes one of the phrases repeated through the novel, in my own way—"Do what you want." I just got One-X (it took me forever to find the album) and you get "Animal I Have Become." And then there's the novel I've started work on. Trunks was channeling the fringes of my serial killer for a moment … Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I keep getting hung up; I think the characters are telling me to move on and get down to business. Maybe now that the threatening kiss between Trunks and Chessa has occurred, they'll start being good again.


	21. Incoming Romance

**Pacifist**

Chapter 21—Incoming Romance

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

Chessa swung listlessly, kicking her long legs out from under her skirt. She felt a little silly sitting by herself in a poorly lit park, wearing a revealing silk dress accented with—of all things—jeweled flowers. And not just any jeweled flowers; that would have been much too simple. These jeweled flowers had been made on Vegeta-sai, from a stone that could only be found there. The closest thing on Earth was the opal, but opals seemed a child's copy of the Mona Lisa compared to the stones that made up the flowers. According to Vegeta, the stone was called Illyrian, named after the first Queen of all Saiyans. What was more, this particular set of flowers had been his mother's—which, of course, brought her back to wondering what he was plotting.

The swing beside her moved, and Chessa jumped, ready to attack if necessary. Then she saw who it was and relaxed; no wonder she hadn't registered the approach at all. The person who had taken the swing next to her was none other than Gabriel Tarries. "Hey."

"Hey," Gabe replied, smiling at Chessa. "I saw you slip out, and I thought you might need someone to talk to."

The corner of her mouth twitched up wryly. "Was I really that obvious?"

Shrugging, Gabriel kicked idly at the ground, moving his swing back and forth in a wobbly figure eight. "No," he said, smiling again in an attempt to reassure the Saiyan woman. "But Goten was smiling too much, and Trunks looked like he'd just gotten the best surprise of his life, and I figured you weren't just stepping out to the washroom."

Chessa sighed, shaking her head. "Some days I think those two get up in the morning so that they can confuse me."

"They're probably just as confused," Gabe told her, watching the stars as though he wasn't at all interested in the situation. "They've been best friends as long as anyone can remember, after all, and then you pop up out of nowhere and they both fall hard. They're doing the best they can, and that's all they or you can do."

"I just—" Chessa began, then broke off, turning to look up into the sky. Despite the fact that she was fairly new at fighting, she knew what had draw her attention: someone was coming. Whoever they were, they were strong, and given what she knew of the Z Fighters' history, someone strong headed towards Earth generally wasn't a good thing. "I have to go," she told Gabriel quickly, launching herself out of the swing and running back toward the high school. Would Trunks and Goten have noticed? "Thank you for coming out to check on me, but I really have to go now."

Within moments of leaving Gabriel, Chessa was back across the street in the high school gymnasium. Her skirt whipped out behind her as she paused, searching frantically for two heads of hair—one lavender, the other black—among the sea of dancers. She spotted them standing forlornly against a wall and hurried over to them. They both looked up, smiling at her as she approached. _Goddess, how will I ever choose between them?_

"Chessa," Trunks breathed, and it was enough to send shivers down her spine. Goten didn't effect her like that, but he was wonderful in his own way. "Chessa," he repeated softly. "What's wrong?"

"There's something coming," she told him, the words tripping over each other as they fought to get out. "Something powerful, headed this way."

She caught a glimpse of the macho rearing its head in a square shouldered 'don't you worry your pretty little head about it.' Then the boys' heads caught up with the rest of them and the meaning of her words sank in. "Are you sure?" Trunks asked warily, his eyes momentarily straying to her lips.

_Am I really that distracting?_ she wondered, glancing from Trunks to Goten and back again. For some reason both of them were blushing—and then she realized that she had spoken out loud, causing her own face to heat. Chessa cleared her throat, not quite meeting either of her friends' gazes, shifting uncomfortably. The demi-Saiyans were similarly uncomfortable, and after a moment's silence Chessa forced herself to break the silence. "Where'd Yuki-chan get off to?"

"Home," Trunks said gruffly, still looking anywhere but at the last female of his father's race. "Said something about her curfew and took off. You sure something's coming?"

"Positive," Chessa confirmed, looking between the boys again. _How could I ever choose? They're my best friends._ "Something big; I doubt it's friendly, what with you've told me about the aliens that have come to Earth before. None of them have started off friendly."

"That's putting it mildly," Goten said, rolling his eyes. "They've all been out to destroy the planet, or at least kill all humans."

Chessa giggled suddenly, covering her mouth and blushing at the incredulous looks that the boys answered with. "It just … it sounds like a bad zombie movie. 'Kill All Humans.'" She laced her fingers together behind her back, examining her toes sheepishly. "So, something's coming. What do we do now?"

"Well," Trunks said softly, "we train. There's a tournament in two weeks anyway." He reached out to gently turn the girl's face up, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes were a touch too intense, but Chessa stoically ignored the fact. _We'll all manage somehow._ "I'd bet that's going to be right around the time our mysterious visitor arrives."

Cocking her head to the side, the Saiyan woman let her eyes close slightly as though she was listening (or perhaps scenting) something. There it was: the coming danger. It was moving closer rapidly, and between the speed and the distance … "Probably."

Goten laughed, and this time Chessa was the one too look disbelieving. "Like clockwork," he commented. "What is it about Earth's martial arts tournaments that draw hostile aliens like flies to honey? Admittedly some of them set up their own games … and not all of them were around the time of games … I mean, Radditz wasn't, after all. But tournaments and aliens just go together, and—"

"Stop babbling," Trunks said, rolling his eyes and smacking Goten on the back of the head. "Tomorrow is open registration for the tournament. Father and Goku never miss a tournament, and Goten and I are signing up, too."

"Krillin, Eighteen, and Marron are on vacation," Goten supplied. "Tahiti."

Trunks nodded, his potent gaze still locked on Chessa. "Pan will be in the junior league even if Gohan and Videl don't sign up—she won't let them keep her from fighting." For a brief moment, his eyes cut sideways to Goten; then they were fixed on the Wiccan again. "Piccolo?"

"Dende's keeping him in the lookout; something about green being conspicuous," Goten snickered. "It's not like everyone doesn't already know that aliens exist, but Dende is Dende, and you don't argue with god—though Piccolo likely did."

"I see," Trunks said, shaking his head at Goten's antics. "What about you, Chessa? You're already good enough to place."

_Only one of them really grew up,_ Chessa thought. The realization startled her, and it took a moment for Trunks' question to register. "I—um, yes, I think I will register," she said carefully. "If nothing else, it will be a good exercise in precision."

A smile flashed across Trunks' face, and then was gone. "You'll do me proud."

The simple statement made Chessa smile; her friend and teacher had given his assurances that she was learning, and in a way he never had before. "That's good to hear," she purred, her tail held jauntily behind her like that of an arrogant cat.

Goten and Trunks managed to keep straight faces for all of thirty seconds before they burst out laughing.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry the chapter is a bit short, but it's done. And I know what's going on in the next _two_. So be happy. 


	22. Heat

**Pacifist**

Chapter 22—Heat

**Disclaimer:** All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Warning:** There are adult situations and themes—or at least the suggestion of such—in this chapter. Personally, I don't think anyone but the most sheltered will be offended, and it's still within the T rating, but the warning is here.

* * *

"Don't lean forward," Trunks murmured with his hands on Chessa's waist as he corrected her position. "That's the biggest problem you have with your technique; you lean into things too much. You're still off balance." 

The young Saiyan female swallowed hard, her hands clenching briefly. "That might be because you're distracting," she said softly, biting her lower lip.

His hands tightened on the witch's waist, and the younger prince stood silent for a long moment. Then he relaxed, releasing her and taking a step back. "Heron," he snapped harshly, obviously trying to pretend that nothing had happened. It was just like he acted when their kiss at the masquerade came near being mentioned.

Chessa accepted his avoidance, her lips settling into a firm line, as she rose onto her toes on one foot. Her other leg was raised, dangling from her knee; her raised arms swayed from her elbows. With her body loose, she concentrated on remaining in balance as Trunks paced around her, nodding his approval.

"Switch," he barked out, and with a little kick, Chessa complied. As she balanced on her other foot, Trunks circled her again, and then nodded. "You're going to do that every morning and every evening until I can sneak up on you and you still can't be shoved over."

The female snorted gracelessly, flipping a stray lock back out of her face. "I think you might be just a little full of yourself. You're assuming that you can sneak up on me." She pinched her nose, smirking at him. "I can smell you before you can come close enough to even try pushing me over."

Trunks chuckled, shaking his head, and said, "You know how fast I am."

"I'm getting pretty fast myself," Chessa said flippantly, tossing her head again. Then she sobered, looking down at her bare toes. The nails were painted a brilliant scarlet; Bra had picked out the color and painted them the day after the dance. It was such a silly thing for her to notice, but the wholly Saiyan female couldn't help it; anything to keep her from turning her attention to the approaching life force. "So," she began awkwardly, "do you think I have any chance in the tournament? What if I'm set against Vegeta first?"

The demi-Saiyan smiled softly, pulling Chessa into a gentle hug. "Don't worry," he murmured, and the Saiyan woman was certain that Trunks wasn't talking about his father. Then he cleared his throat, smiling at the female in his arms. "Unless Father goes Super Saiyan, you should do well enough that it will be something to be proud of. Especially considering the fact that you've only been fighting for a couple of months and Father has been training his whole life."

Giggling nervously, Chessa nodded, pulling reluctantly away from Trunks. She seemed to care about him more with every day that passed; could Goten even compare? He was her friend, yes, but … nothing more. "I'm not expecting to win or anything; I just don't want to make an utter fool of myself," she twittered, patting her customary bun as if to put it back into place. "So, heron," she said, trying to pull herself back together—she was behaving like an idiot—and assuming the form of the balance exercise.

"Yes, just like—" Trunks began, and then broke off with a strangled yell. His hands darted up to his temples, fell slightly, and rose again; he fell to his knees on the floor. Chessa yelped as his changed scent assaulted her nose, wondering how he had managed to turn hisback to her. For a moment she stood in stunned silence, wondering why her nose wasn't bleeding, why Trunks wasn't being crushed by the sudden onset of all that _feeling_, and then worry overtook her. Perhaps he _was_ being destroyed by pure force of emotion; as ridiculous as that sounded, it almost smelled as if he was. And then there was his posture—curled up on the floor, Trunks hunched in on himself, his tail wrapped around him, holding his head in his hands as though to crush it between them.

Regaining some control of herself, the Saiyan woman took two small steps towards he best friend. Anxiously, she began, "Trunks, what's—"

Growling ferally, the prince spun to face the woman behind him with wild eyes, a hand shooting out as if to grab her before he pulled it back. "Get out of here!"

"No," Chessa said firmly, standing her ground. His sudden change in behavior worried her; she was confused by the mix of fear and rage and _need_ that she smelled off of him, all somehow combined into something different, something more, something that disturbed and excited her on a primal level. "What's wrong?" she demanded, trying to quash the inappropriate thrill the scent of his dilemma sent through her.

"It's … my Time," he panted. "Like … animal … in heat … all at once. 'Cept the male." Forcing his eyes closed, Trunks curled in on himself again, visibly restraining himself from acting on his impulses, rasping out a single command. "Go!"

Taking a few more hesitant steps towards him, she stretched out a hand as if to stoke his back soothingly as he had so many times for her, not quite touching him. "Trunks … "

Chessa didn't even have time to gasp as Trunks surged up from the floor, grabbing her shoulders more roughly than he ever had before and pinning her harshly against the wall. "You … don't understand," he grated. "I'm not safe … for you … now. Not until … the Time … is past. You … have to go. Have to … run away. Stay away … from me." He bared his teeth at her, his intensely lavender eyes filled with a wild fear that warred with the blatant desire there. He was quivering, his body tense as he held himself back. "Go!"

"You won't do anything to harm me," she stated illogically, trying to think past the fluttering fear that had clouded her brain. As irrational as her statement was at the moment, it felt true.

"Don't … understand," Trunks growled, glaring angrily, fearfully, even as his hands tightened on her arms; she would undoubtedly bruise. "I've shown you how. Get away! I need to mate … need you … I—" his eyes squeezed shut, as if to deny the words that were escaping— "I love you."

For a moment Chessa could only gape at him, and then she leaned forward to press her lips to his in a hungry kiss. She'd only had that one kiss at the masquerade from him, all to brief. Most of her recent kissing experiences were with Goten, flippant and carefree Goten who kissed her—his friend—for the fun of it; while Goten was fun, this seemed right. Trunk's eyes popped open; she could see his control slipping away.

Holding himself back by a slender thread of sheer will, the demi-Saiyan managed a few broken phrases. "Sure? What 'bout—Goten?"

"I … like you, Trunks," Chessa said softly. "Really like you. I don't know if it's love, but I … I'm sure. Goten's just … not the same."

As his body pressed firmly against hers, the Wiccan gasped. An inhumanly strong arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer; the other began stroking her tail as he pressed kisses against her throat. Chessa put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, and Trunks took hold of his last shreds of discipline to pull back, his eyes dark with concentrated hunger while he still managed to let his worry be seen. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared," she admitted, her hands tensing slightly before she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him like a lifeline. Then, in one of those inexplicable oxymorons of truth, she added, "You always make me feel safe."

"Sorry," he murmured against her throat, nipping her lightly as he played delicately with her tail; he did love her purr, and the gasp he got in response to his nip dealt the death blow to his tattered control. "I'll be as gentle as I can."

Slowly, Chessa removed one arm from his strong neck. A hand sought out his tail, and soon his deep, rumbling purr joined her higher one. "Nothing … to be sorry for," she murmured. _He's so warm … _Each place his skin touched hers a fire was kindled, spreading from his skin into hers, until she was as warm as he was.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Lemonade is so much tastier than lemons! Though personally I think this batch of lemonade might have had just a little much sugar in it. 


	23. For Love and for Life

**Pacifist**

Chapter 23—For Love and for Life

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

Drowsily snuggling closer to the firm warmth beside her, a slightly sore Saiyan female purred to herself and brushed a wild tangle of mahogany hair out of her face. Despite her stiffness, she was incredibly comfortable and completely content. Now that she was settled again, she had no intention of moving any time soon. The other Saiyan had different ideas, however; he rolled over so that he was facing her, smiling lazily and pulling her close, nuzzling tenderly at her neck. _Perhaps activity is not completely undesirable after all,_ she thought fuzzily, still only partly conscious as she leisurely returned her lavender eyed companion's attentions.

After a short time he pulled back, placing a mild kiss on her brow and caressing her cheek with open warmth. He stared into her eyes for another long moment before speaking, his voice so low that the words barely managed to cover the slight distance to her ears. "Thank you."

A slow smile spread across her face, chocolate-topaz eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "It was … nice." A trifling blush colored her cheeks a delicate pink, but it was hard to blush after—and it had been nice. Nice in a way she'd never experienced before. "I … I suppose that's it, then? Do we just go back to our lives and pretend nothing happened?" A thrill of terror clogged her throat at the thought that he might say yes, but at the same time she wasn't sure how she felt about the other possibility, either.

"No." The answer was short, definite, and immediate; Chessa found herself being crushed possessively against the demi-Saiyan prince. "You're mine now. My mate." He nuzzled her jaw line, the delicacy of the touch electrifying in its contrast with the vise his arms made around her. "It's not always easy to remember that you haven't been Saiyan very long. We mate for life."

She nodded, recognizing the truth in the way his statement resonated with her. Nipping affectionately at the side of his throat, she had to admit to herself that she'd known that on some level before she'd let Trunks touch her—known what she was getting herself into—and she hadn't cared. "So … what does that mean? Not that I don't know what it is to be mates, but we're eighteen. Still children, as far as the humans are concerned, and we still have to live with people. I mean, the others. The people-shaped ones."

Nosing the hollow of her throat, the demi-Saiyan chuckled softly. "Nervous?"

"A little," she admitted, purring softly in response to his attentions. "I want to shout it from the roof tops, but at the same time any sort of announcement seems … barbaric." A memory surfaced from a few months before her magical mishap—a frilly, flowery wedding announcement that had had her in raptures despite her mother's annoying remarks about how she didn't date enough. Now the very idea seemed vulgar.

"You're more Saiyan than you seem to think." He smiled at her sudden look of perturbed confusion, continuing before she could demand to know what he meant. "We don't have to actually tell anyone. Father will know right away, of course—and be all too pleased about it—as will the other Saiyans. They'll be able to smell it. And the others should be able to figure it out on their own before too long."

"What about at school—wait. 'All too pleased?' Was that what your father was planning—to get you and me together?" She stared at her mate incredulously; this was Vegeta they were talking about, after all. "He's been playing matchmaker—just like Chi-Chi?"

"Not really," Trunks muttered, though he could not help but smirk at the comparison. "Chi-Chi has some odd notions of romance, but that's what she's after. Father didn't care how we felt about each other, just so long as he somehow managed to secure the last Saiyan female as my mate."

"And now he has." She pulled away slightly as she spoke, dropping her eyes. This was all political, and that was worse than it being a one-time thing—

"No!" Trunks answered forcefully, snapping Chessa out of her doubts. "This has nothing to do with him. This is about you and me, Chessa, and don't you ever dare think differently." He stroked her hair gently, his lavender eyes burning with fierce emotion. "What does your nose tell you, Chessa? Trust that if you can't trust me."

She felt so very fragile in his arms, but so safe at the same time. All he wanted was for her to believe him, but so much had changed in such a short time. Squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to trap her tears, Chessa buried her face in her mate's shoulder, inhaling deeply to try and calm herself.

The aroma that assaulted her nose was overwhelming. There was so much there, and all of it so intense! Rubbing her nose against his skin to assure herself that it was not bleeding, she took another, more careful breath, trying to sort it all out. Waves of passion were intermingled with desire, a need to protect her—so many nuances that she couldn't hope to identify them all. But among all that, one thing was sure, and it nearly brought tears to her eyes to sort out the single powerful emotion among all the forceful feeling she could smell off of him. "You do love me," she whispered, burying her face in his chest. "You do love me."

Trunks smiled softly, stroking Chessa's unkempt mahogany hair. "Yes, Chessa, I love you," he murmured, reveling in the feel of her in his arms, her body against his. There was nothing else for it, now—just them, him and her, the prince and the woman he loved. And yet—"That doesn't mean you have to love me," he said softly, though the words hurt to speak. He couldn't help but think of the stories his father had told him of the royal Saiyan court; mates didn't always love each other. Sometimes love and romance fell to another than the mate; heart and body were not always in the same package. _But she said that she likes me … that she likes me a great deal._ He tried to push the thought away, but there was no way he could help hoping.

The slim woman nodded against her mate's chest, sliding her tail out from behind her to catch his. Tails entwined, the young Saiyan prince held his princess close, breathing in her scent. There was so much she still didn't know about being Saiyan, but she was his for love and for life. He wasn't sure how much he should tell her right away—and a glance at the chronometer told him that he didn't have any more time at the moment.

"Hey," he said, smiling, as he tilted Chessa's head up towards his. "Unless we want Father to walk in on us like this, we need to get dressed."

The relatively fair-haired Saiyan's eyes went wide, and she twisted in her mate's arms to look at the digital timepiece above the door for herself. "Oh, goddess!" she yelped, jerking away from Trunks and going after her discarded clothing. Trunks chuckled, and she glared indignantly back over her shoulder at the smiling prince. Snatching his deep blue gi pants from the floor, she threw them at her mate. They hit him in the face, and a satisfied Chessa turned back to her own clothing.

Once she was dressed again, she turned back to Trunks, raking her fingers through her ferociously unkempt hair. He was impeccably dressed in his dark blue gi, looking as though they hadn't even begun practice yet, much less … been distracted. She growled in irritation, and then squealed as Trunks looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a heated kiss. Chessa's head was spinning when her mate released her slowly, even reluctantly. "Let's get out of here," he murmured with a small smile, caressing the witch's cheek gently. "Father will be in for his morning training any minute."

Chessa nodded, wide-eyed, and let Trunks lead her out of the gravity room. He could so easily blow everything else out of her mind—had that always been there, or was that new? Steadying herself, she took her mate's hand, walking with him towards the stairs that lead up to their respective rooms. Though they'd have to do something about that now; there wasn't any sense in them having separate rooms any longer.

As the newly mated pair rounded a corner, they nearly ran into the Saiyan no Ouji. The teens stopped—Chessa's eyes going even wider, Trunks having the decency to look mildly embarrassed—waiting for Vegeta to move past them. The short, dark-haired man stared intensely at the pair for a moment. Then, smirking, he said, "Hnn." The noncommittal noise seemed to be all that Vegeta had in store for them; with that, he seemed to loose interest, moving on towards the gravity room. Within moments Chessa could feel his power level rising as he began his training.

The Wiccan shivered, pressing close against her mate. "You're father's kinda creepy, you know that?" she murmured into his shoulder.

"I know," Trunks replied, his voice just as soft as he held Chessa a little longer—they'd have to be at school in a little over an hour, and he couldn't hold her there. "I know."


	24. Prelude to Violence

**Pacifist**

Chapter 24—Prelude to Violence

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the lengthy—exceptionally lengthy—year long—wait for a new chapter. I'll be good now. I promise.

* * *

Nervously, Chessa sat in the locker room, waiting for her name to be called. This was not what she had had in mind for her first tournament: a world wide martial arts championship. Goten—who had accepted her mating Trunks with surprising ease—lounged easily against the wall. Her mate was fighting now, against a young man named Masou.

The cheers from the crowd were muffled; the other five fighters left in the tournament were bored. All of them had been in tournaments before, however; perhaps it was not so bizarre that she should be more nervous than the others. And she did not know who she was to fight, or when—the final eight had been re-drawn for the final bracket and were only announced right before their matches. Add that to the fact that her mate was currently fighting, and it was surprising she was not even more anxious.

There was a roar of applause, and then the screens lit up again, the pictures of the six remaining contestants shuffling over the screens. Chessa's breath caught in her throat—had Trunks won? Of course he had won—and then the first screen settled on her face. Her breath caught in her throat, and then the other screen stopped on her opponent.

Vegeta.

For a long moment, Chessa stared at the screen, waiting for it to change. Then, with dread settling over her, she looked over toward the Prince of all Saiyans.

He was smirking.

The young woman turned her back sharply, trying not to let herself get psyched out before the match even began. Rolling her shoulders to ease the tension building there, she stalked over to the place where she was to stand.

Once she and Vegeta had both taken their places, the floor dropped out from under them. Alone, Chessa rushed along the now familiar tube, light flickering through from somewhere periodically. It seemed like forever—like no time at all—and then Chessa stood in the light once more, in the red corner of the ring with the voluptuous woman who did the announcing standing between Vegeta and her.

Pointing first towards Vegeta, then towards the Saiyan female, the pretty announcer solicited cheers from the crowd. Chessa knew these cheers were louder than when she had last fought; was it her imagination, or were they cheering louder for her than for Vegeta?

Yes, they were. Perhaps it was that she was so much the underdog, or perhaps Vegeta was simply that unlikable, but the section cheering for her him was small—and everyone there looked mean to boot. Apparently the Prince of all Saiyans was the hero of thugs, and he probably liked it that way.

"In the blue corner, Vegeta! Will this be his year to take the championship from Son Goku?"

Vegeta's glare was deadly, but the slim orange-haired announcer didn't notice.

"And in the red corner, newcomer Chessa Ohanzee! This is her first tournament, and she's making quite a showing! Still, no first timer has a chance against the mighty Vegeta!"

Most of the spectators erupted in angry shouts; someone held up a sign reading "John 3:16" in bold black letters. For a moment, Chessa gazed at the sign, confused, and then the bell rang.

Chessa's attention snapped back to Vegeta. He stood, balanced on the balls of his feet, in his battle clothes. Even here, where few knew or cared, he was every inch the Prince of all Saiyans. The first class female stood ready, waiting, listening to the hushed murmur of the crowd for any clue that tempo might give.

The roar of the crowd came well after Vegeta moved. He was fast—very fast—even encumbered by armor. It was only the fact that Chessa's own training focused on speed that allowed her to dodge the prince's rush in time.

Now she was more wary. With some effort, she centered herself, blocking out the crowd and it too late warnings. Instead, she focused on Vegeta, on any clue he might give to how he would move.

His stance shifted a microsecond before he moved. It was a beginner mistake, not one that Vegeta could be expected to make—but she had to move, not accuse the Saiyan Prince of toying with her. Chessa dropped, swinging her leg around to sweep his foot from under him as he kicked where her shoulder had been.

Vegeta jumped the younger Saiyan's sweeping leg with ease. He was smirking; it should have been more annoying, perhaps, but Chessa saw it only on the most analytical level. He attacked again, punching at her head, then immediately kicking towards her gut. Both hand and boot were dodged, though the breeze from the punch ruffled her hair as it passed.

The crowd gasped as one; the few cheering for Vegeta roared their approval. It took them a moment to realize that Chessa was unscathed, but when they did, the cheer rose again, this time taken up by more of the spectators.

Vegeta seemed quite pleased. He didn't smile—not quite—but he was deffinatly smirking. He was still for a moment, and then nodded, giving Chessa an approving "Hn."

Then he attacked again, giving no quarter. It was all the young Saiyan could do to keep any of the blows from landing. As it was, the wind from the blows was whistling past her all too close for comfort. It was more trying than the toughest of her practices, and even as unencumbered as she was (she still wore her black sports bra from Sarah's Simplicity and the drawstring pants) she found it near impossible to avoid the prince's blows.

Finally the immanent punch landed, striking her square under the ribs. It took Chessa's breath away and sent her flying, and when she landed she slid across the ring on her butt. For a moment she sat, barely a foot from the edge, breathing hard.

Then the madness took her. Lunging to her feet, Chessa Ohanzee lost herself. No longer was she pacifist, wiccan, woman—only Saiyan remained. Running at her top speed, she lunged for Vegeta, her fist glowing faintly red as it flew toward the Prince.

It connected with his jaw, sending him flying. Again she struck, the edge of her foot a knife. Again she connected. And again. In her berserker state, it was all Vegeta could do to dodge half her blows.

Finally, in a frenzied dash, Chessa drove her opponent from the ring. There was silence, then before the pudgy referee could raise her hand in victory, a raucous roar erupted from the crowd.

As the referee raised the young Saiyan's hand, she slid out of her furious state. Panting, she smiled uncertainly. She had won? How had she won? Confused, she looked for Vegeta, and found him sitting on the ground outside the ring, obviously somewhat confused at how he had gotten there. Then he looked up at Chessa, raised an eyebrow, then nodded to himself.

Climbing down from the ring, the Saiyan woman stared at Vegeta for a long moment, perturbed. When he said nothing, she tapped her foot and asked "So?" Still nothing. "Well, what is it?" Then, a response, and the most disturbing one possible.

Vegeta laughed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks to Pinkmoon for betaing!


	25. The News

**Pacifist**

Chapter 25—The News

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

It was the most bizarre sight Chessa had ever encountered, and she prayed to every god she knew that it would end soon, because she was sure that if it didn't the world would come to an end.

It didn't, of course, though that might have been because Vegeta stopped laughing quickly enough to prevent it. Stepping towards the elder Saiyan, the young woman tried to glare at the prince, but wound up looking curious.

Vegeta just looked smug. Belligerently ignoring the young woman, he walked back towards the locker room without saying a word. Chessa followed him with her hand on her hip, highly perturbed. It was not until the next match had been set and Goten and Liran had left that Vegeta even looked at her again.

He looked even more pleased than he had when he had discovered Trunks and Chessa had mated. Why he should look so pleased when he had just somehow been inexplicably and undeniably beaten …

Then he turned to Trunks, still smirking, and very gruffly said, "Congratulations."

Congratulations? What was that supposed to mean? Perplexed, she turned to Trunks, who looked equally baffled. Then his eyes widened, and he turned to Chessa. Slowly, he walked over to her, inhaled her scent, and then kissed her deeply and with almost startling passion. Whatever the reason, Chessa sank into the kiss, melting in his strong embrace.

He pulled slowly away, smiling like the world had just been handed to him. "Chessa," he said softly, "you're pregnant."

"What? How could I be—" she broke off, looking over at Vegeta. He looked all too smug for the answer to be anything else, and he wasn't even the father!

"Females do not go Super Saiyan," the Prince of all Saiyans said, sounding just like the cat in the cream. "But while pregnant, if anything threatens, they go into a state that is their equivalent. The aura goes red, and the female goes berserk. Only victory stops them in defense of the unborn child."

"Females do not go Super Saiyan—hmph. No one at all went Super Saiyan until Goku. I'm sure a female, given the same chance, could go Super." Then she sobered. "So I'm pregnant. And set to face Trunks next." Worry etched on her face, she nestled back against her mate. "I don't see how we could be ready," she told him in a tiny voice.

"We have to be," he said gently, wrapping his arms around her.

Then Goku came over, his spiky head appearing over Trunks's shoulder, that enormous grin in place. "You're pregnant? That's exciting! When are you due? What are you going to name it? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"We just found out," Trunks said, saving Chessa from having to answer. His arms tightened protectively around her, and she smiled. How was it he could so easily make her want to melt? Two weeks ago he'd just been her friend. Things were going so fast, it should have disturbed her.

But it didn't. This was natural. This was right. So she was pregnant … they would deal with it. It was not the end of the world, however it might appear to those outside their relationship, and somehow as soon as the initial shock wore off it did not seem surprising at all. Of course she was pregnant.

"So," she said quietly to her mate, "what now?"

"You're slated to fight me once this fight and the next are over with," Trunks said, his brow furrowed nervously.

"And this is not exactly what I would call 'fighting prime'," Chessa said sardonically, waving a hand at her still flat stomach. Her human experience still told her there was no way to be sure yet, but her Saiyan instincts flattened any objections with the strength of a steamroller.

The lavender-haired prince laughed, shaking his head. "You say that after you beat Vegeta. You beat _Vegeta_, Chessa. I'd say that your current state is something close to fighting prime, and perhaps even above that. I'm just worried about what might happen to the baby if I'm not careful enough."

Chessa nodded thoughtfully, her tail slowly swishing behind her. She was exhilarated, excited, and terrified all at the same time, all tied up in a jumble of emotions that knotted her stomach around a bundle of butterflies. The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. Chewing her lip lightly, she placed her hands over her stomach, looking down at the place where her hands rested. Could there really be a little Saiyan growing inside her?

Of course there was.

Looking up at Trunks, she held her face arrogantly blank, looking every inch a First Class Saiyan from the tip of her jauntily held tail to the mercilessly proud look on her face. All the same, she nodded.

Finally it was time for Chessa to face Trunks in the ring. Once more, she stepped onto the platform that dropped away, and once more she rode along the dark tunnel with the window-like lights that flickered in her vision as she sped past them. Then she was in the ring – the blue corner this time. For some reason, she was more nervous now, knowing what she had to do, than she had been knowing that she was facing Vegeta.

And she had beat Vegeta. Even now, as she went on to her next match, it seemed as though she was dreaming. How could she have beaten Vegeta? She would not have, had she not been pregnant.

"In the blue corner, Chessa Ohanzee!"

The cheer went up, louder than any before. She had gone from underdog to favorite. She had, before them all, beaten Vegeta. The cheer made her sick to her stomach, and her throat tightened because she knew she would disappoint them all.

"And in the red corner, Trunks Briefs! He's a frequent contender, but can he stand up to Chessa's berserker rage?"

There was cheering for Trunks, though nowhere near what there had been for Chessa. It seemed that the audience loved the little guy, loved the idea of someone winning their first tournament—especially one on this scale. She looked at Trunks, knowing if she wanted to face him, he would let her … but he would be too afraid he would hurt the baby to bring his A game.

And she would not face him when he was giving anything less than his best. So this was no decision at all; what they had discussed would be done. The orange-haired announcer took a breath to shout the beginning of the match into the microphone, but before she said anything, the Saiyan woman grabbed her arm.

Chessa spoke rapidly to the announcer, holding the woman's slim arm in a firm grip. The orange-haired girl shook her head once, then again, as Chessa nodded and continued to talk rapidly to her. Finally, the announcer pulled away, rubbing her arm in irritation.

"An interesting development! Chessa Ohanzee, who was quickly becoming a favorite despite the fact this is her first tournament, forfeits!"


	26. Arrival

**Pacifist**

Chapter 26—Arrival

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

That stupid Son grin was plastered across the faces of father and son as the short, round referee held Goku's hand in the air. Goten picked himself up, shaking out his dark hair, as his father was announced as the victor. Chessa watched from the stands with the rest of the Z Fighters, one hand resting easily over her womb.

As reflected by the crowd, there was no surprise that Goku had beat his son. He had beat him last year, and would beat him next. And this time there was no final battle between Vegeta and Goku to look forward to; Vegeta had been defeated and then the newcomer who had quickly flattened him had _forfeited_. That left Trunks to fight Goku, and so sure was the crowd that Goku would defeat Trunks that it was already starting to thin.

Waiting for her mate to arrive in the ring, the last full-Saiyan female watched idly as small groups of people fidgeted, stood, and left the arena. It would have been sad, had she decided to care that she had ruined the show for all of those people. The irritating tingle of the approaching alien's aura was a constant annoyance now, and she knew very well that those who were leaving early were likely missing the best part of the show, and a part they had not even had to pay for.

Chessa's heart quickened as her mate appeared in the ring. It wasn't a warm, mushy, human hearts-and-clouds feeling, but rather a deep-seated passion that had settled in her bones at some point since they had mated. And since she was physically _his_ for the rest of both their lives … well, it was only fitting that her heart should be his, too.

Yuki-chan turned to smile at her best friend, ignoring the fact that a bored-looking Vegeta was sitting directly behind them. "You've annoyed half of Japan, forfeiting like that," she said, open amusement in her voice. She had come a long way from the "mouse" that Chessa had originally befriended, growing bolder and less tied to tradition, seemingly growing freer every day.

Chessa just smiled at the human girl, shaking her hair back and leaning back in the uncomfortable stadium chair. She propped her bare feet up on the rail with her hands folded over the plane of her stomach, pretending to consider the statement. After a moment, she turned a cheeky grin towards the thinning crowd. "Sorry," she said in an exaggerated arrogant drawl. "Personal reasons, you know."

Sighing and shaking her head, Yuki-chan ran her fingers through her own short, dark hair. "You know, you're getting to be almost as bad as the other monsters," she said, her amusement clear. "If you aren't careful you'll turn into a female version of the prince back there."

Snorting out a short laugh, the Saiyan female grinned broadly at the other girl. "I got Trunks, didn't I?"

"Not that it was a challenge," Yuki-chan snorted in return.

The long-haired girl considered that statement for a moment. "No," she agreed, "it wasn't."

The girls were prevented from further conversation by the appearance of Goku and Trunks in the ring. The cheer was enthusiastic, if not as loud as those before - the spectators who had stayed to watch the match between these two were obsessive about the sport. And there, across the ring, was that _sign_ again. What on earth did a bible verse have to do with fighting? "What is that one, anyway?" Chessa asked the girl beside her.

"'For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten son,' I believe. There might be more to it, but it's along those lines." Yuki-chan shrugged in response to Chessa's incredulous look. "I think they're all a bit insane."

The Saiyan woman laughed. "You're probably right, Yuki-chan."

"In the blue corner, the reigning Champion, Son Goku!" The fanatical cheer that raised in his support took up a good portion of the remaining crowd. "And in the red corner, challenger Trunks Briefs! Let's see what he can make of himself against the long-time champion!" He was cheered on, too, by those who supported him and those who just wanted someone other than Goku to win for once.

The pretty announcer stepped down from the ring to be replaced by the chubby referee, who panted and perspired as he climbed into the ring under the blazing midday sun. He signaled for the match to begin, and yelped and jumped out of the way as it did just that.

It was pure pleasure to watch Goku and Trunks fight. The conclusion was forgone, but the journey was already promising to be spectacular. Punches were flying almost too fast to follow, and Chessa leaned forward in her seat, feet planted firmly on the rough concrete. Her lips parted slightly, she watched the match, watched her mate with unbridled desire –

And she wasn't the only one. High above her, among the thinned out crowd, was a knot of girls from their class at school. Selene was among them, or they were around Selene. She was _that girl_, and they all knew it. And below her, in the ring, was the object of her desire, fighting for _her_. All the girls knew it, just as all the girls knew Trunks Briefs was hers. Of course, all of them were as wrong as Selene was in assuming that Chessa was safely out of the way and still dating Goten. Perhaps if she had seen Trunks kiss the woman that was now his mate two weeks before … but she had been distracted by trying in vain to turn Gabriel's attentions towards her.

Chessa knew that her mate was fighting for the sheer love of it, and as for the rest … well, she had failed to see the point in wasting energy on chasing boys even before she had mated. Now … well, now, there would be more point for a woman married fifty years to chase boys than there was for her. Hell, if Vegeta had actually been crowned, _she_ would be Saiyan no Oujo!

The fighting pair broke apart, their whole bodies loose and ready to react should the other make a move. They circled, both looking inordinately pleased to be fighting. After a few moments of circling like animals fighting over territory, they launched at each other again, this time using feet as well as hands in their mutual struggle towards victory. It was amazing, exciting, intoxicating - so fluid were they that they appeared to be fighting together rather than fighting against each other. Then Goku struck a blow … or did he? Trunks bounced backward, landing lightly on the balls of his feet, but it was questionable as to whether he had actually been struck or if he had dodged. Her pulse pounding the rhythm of her excitement, Chessa watched eagerly as they pulled back once more, circling as they sought the opportune angle.

As Trunks lifted himself onto his toes, preparing to attack, a loud whistling sounded from the sky above them. They looked up to see a large sphere traveling towards them. Both Saiyans jumped back to the edges of the ring as the ball crashed directly into the center of the ring, sending chunks of broken cement flying through the stadium.

The Z Fighters present surged to their feet, watching the green and white sphere warily. A glowing line appeared, framing a doorway, and then with a hiss of steam the door opened into a ramp. The _precision_ of the landing left it pointing straight to the sky, but the figure that stood inside did not seem to be bothered in the least by it. The alien jumped up and out, higher than was truly natural, and landed beside the crater created by her pod.

For several moments she - for the alien was definitely female - stood to let the crowd stare in awe and fear. Black hair hung in a thick mass to her shoulders, parts of it standing out from her head at unnatural angles. She was too muscular for any sort of beauty, and was dressed in a green jumpsuit with heavy white armor and boots. A green eyepiece went in front of one eye with the backside of a digital display visible to those facing her. And the finishing touch - a thin, prehensile brown tail protruded from her backside, displayed proudly for all to see.

A Saiyan? But … how?

She apparently decided she had given the people enough time to develop sufficient fear, because she drew herself up to her full height and blasted a ball of power at an empty section of the poor, oft rebuilt stadium, efficiently exploding it. "People of Earth!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the acoustics of the area. "Your time has come to an end! Those of you who come peacefully will be sold as slaves; the rest of you shall be destroyed so that your planet may be cleansed and sold! I am Celri; do not ignore my warning, for it is the only one you will receive. You have twenty-four hours to decide." With that she turned to return to her pod until the time had passed. When she saw the collection of Saiyans and demi-Saiyans standing there to oppose her, she gaped.

"Let me guess," Chessa said wickedly, eyeing the other woman with mild interest. "You want to know what we're doing here." She cocked her head to the side, ignoring the confused looks of the men standing with her. If she could be here, then so could another Saiyan female. "We'd like to know the same thing."

Celri puffed herself up, filled with Saiyan arrogance and perhaps a touch of honestly come by pride. She was a female, after all, and as far as Chessa knew, sending a female out as the destroyer of worlds was far from normal. Some sort of experiment, perhaps? "In his wisdom, Yukka, King of All Saiyans, sent me out from Vegeta-sai to cleanse this world. Should I succeed, other females might be sent out to fight alongside the men." No wonder she was so proud!

Then Chessa processed the rest of the tirade. King Yukka? Vegeta-sai?

Vegeta-sai was not destroyed?

And who was this King Yukka?

Vegeta was the one to recover first. "Should Vegeta-sai still stand, it has no King Yukka," he growled, holding himself to his full (unimpressive) height. "I am Vegeta no Saiyan, son of Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans - and upon my father's death, I become King of All Saiyans."

The woman gaped at the Prince, her nose quivering. She touched the side of her scanner, then blinked, looking from one of the gathered Saiyans to the next. She moaned faintly as she read the power levels, looking as though she would have fainted were she not Saiyan. Then, mind apparently made up, she bowed to Prince Vegeta, her face lowered to the concrete floor of the ring.

Author's Note: No, I do not know why I decided to make the Saiyan who came to attack Earth female, but that she is … well … as she has sort of been with me since I first decided what the alien attacker was going to be. You know, back when I asked if anyone reliable had witnessed the destruction of Vegeta-sai.

Apparently no one did. "Haha, i bl3w up ur pl4n3t!!1"


	27. While Plans are Laid

**Pacifist**

Chapter 27—While Plans are Laid

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

It seemed odd, to be in school while they knew that plans were being laid for the migration back to Vegeta-sai. There were already rumors buzzing everywhere about what had happened in the ring when Goku and Trunks had had their match interrupted. Somehow the right answer - aliens - was even among the theories thrown around both by those who had been there and those who had only heard the most far-flung tales about that day. Apparently it was hard to top the truth in this instance, at least so far as the extraterrestrial part was concerned. No one seemed to have grasped the fact that Trunks, Goten, and Chessa were among the aliens that had subdued the threat. How, exactly, was as diverse as the people telling the rumors, and funnily enough one of the more popular stories was that they had been defeated and Hercule Satan had saved the world once again.

Chessa couldn't help but chuckle when she heard _that_ particular rendition of the events that had transpired the day before. As far as she knew, Hercule hadn't saved the world even once, much less as many times as it was claimed he had.

However it had happened their teachers were so grateful not to be slaves or dead (somehow no one was unfamiliar with the threatened fate) that they had given their classes a free day. For a while the class had been distracted by card games and gossip, but now they were growing bored and restless with the apparently single exception of Yuki-chan, who had ignored both the cards and the false stories she could have corrected in favor of burying her nose in a ridiculously thick book near her three Saiyan friends and ignoring the hacky sack that occasionally whizzed over her head.

As the Monstrous Trio grew bored with kicking the loosely stuffed woven ball around, they settled in to play cards just as everyone else got bored with such quiet pursuits. They ignored the growing racket with the same ease that they dodged the occasional flying object, and soon all three of them were concentrating on their cards and trying to look past the others' poker faces.

"Three kings," Goten pronounced, looking pleased with himself. He stared down the other two as though daring them to call him on it—

"Bull Shit, Goten!" Chessa called, laughing as she saw several faces turn towards her with varying levels of shock and awe written on them. The teacher looked for a moment as if he would say something, then changed his mind.

Groaning slightly, the Son flipped over the top three cards, revealing two kings … and a jack.

"Pick 'em up," Chessa half-purred, obviously pleased with the call. Raising a slim eyebrow, she turned to her mate. "Your turn," she said with a playful wink, holding her cards fanned out in front of her face.

"So, Trunks," a warm voice said, and Chessa gritted her teeth as Selene squeezed between her and her mate. "How would you like to come to Tora's party with me Friday night?"

Trunks gave Selene a brief, bored look before choosing his cards and laying them face-down in the center of the trio. "Two aces," he said clearly, then turned to look dully at Selene. "First off, what would make you think that my answer would be any different this time than it has been before?" He paused, waiting for a response, but the self-absorbed blonde just gaped at him. "Second, if I go to Tora's party with anyone, it will be with Chessa."

_That_ got a response! Selene straightened, glaring at Chessa, her hands in stiff fists on her thighs. "Chessa," she hissed, "is dating Goten," she reminded Trunks. "Your _best friend_."

The young Saiyan woman hid a laugh behind her cards, drawing one from her hand. "One two," she announced, pretending to ignore Selene.

Goten was doing an even worse job of hiding his amusement than Chessa was. Barely managing to keep from laughing out loud, he dropped two cards on the pile. "Three twos - I mean, two threes," he half-giggled. "That's been over for a while, Selene. We make much better friends than … anything else," he said, winking cheekily at what, until the day before, had been presumed to be the last full-Saiyan female.

Selene directed a weak blue-eyed glare at Goten before turning her attention back toward Trunks. "Surely you don't want your best friend's … leftovers," she sneered.

Trunks's lavender eyes narrowed sharply, and the glare he turned on Selene illustrated her own inadequacy at the expression. "Chessa," he growled sharply, "is no one's 'leftover's.'" Putting a possessive arm around his mate, he pulled her to him. "And she never will be."

A pleased smile leapt onto the Saiyan girl's face, and Yuki-chan and Goten shared a satisfied grin. Selene, however, did not take the expression of love and loyalty nearly as well. A primal noise of rage and frustration was ripped from her throat, and she lunged towards Chessa. She reached out to slap the other woman, only to have her wrist caught.

The Saiyan female squeezed gently, making the blond chit wince. "You can throw tantrums all you want," she purred lightly, "but that won't change the fact that Trunks is mine. So why don't you run along and play with dolls like the other little girls?" Smirking, she pulled the tart towards her slightly, then easily threw her across the room, bowling over a group of Selene's open-mouthed lackeys. Satisfied, Chessa turned back to the game, ignoring both the reactions of all three of her friends with equal ease. "So, Trunks, it's your turn," she said calmly, for all the world as if she had not just thrown one of their classmates across the room.

"Fours, correct?" the lavender-haired prince asked, glancing at his cards as if nothing had happened. "Let's see ... three fours." He dropped the correct number of cards on the pile, ignoring the stunned looks of their classmates with the same ease that Chessa ignored the others' expressions.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry this one is kind of short, but it was sort of an intermissory piece that needed to be added in. You know, the cat fight, so that thread labeled "Selene" would be properly tied off.


	28. Farewell to Earth

**Pacifist**

Chapter 28—Farewell to Earth

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

* * *

It only took six weeks to complete a spaceship capable of carrying those who would be making the trip to Vegeta-sai. Who would be going - and who wouldn't - had been the subject of a great deal of discussion over the month and a half during which Bulma was spending her every waking hour in her lab. In the end, not all of the Saiyans were coming. Celri, Vegeta, Bra, Trunks, Chessa and even Bulma (despite the blue-haired woman being human) were a given. After all, it would defeat the purpose of them going at all if the Saiyan no Ouji and his family did not go! After some discussion, however, Goku had decided not to go, saying that not only did he not remember Vegeta-sai, but Earth was his home. Gohan and Videl were staying as well - much to Pan's dismay - but Goten was coming with his best friend. That made seven, which seemed a decent number, for all that Bulma was moaning about balancing the craft with an uneven number of passengers.

That problem was solved when, unexpectedly, Yuki-chan asked if she could come along. No one had seen any reason she shouldn't (other than Celri, who didn't want Bulma to come, either, and wasn't sure Trunks and Bra should be allowed) and so she brought the full complement of the ship to eight.

As she stood, two months pregnant, waiting for Bulma to let the party board, Chessa looked solemnly around at what would likely be her last look at Earth. She felt a small, definite kick in her lower abdomen, which drew her attention from the landscape of "home" to the little life growing inside her.

"You're completely sure that space travel is safe for the baby?" she asked again, watching Bulma nervously.

The blue-haired human sighed in exasperation. "As I have told you before, though I would not recommend it for a human fetus, a three-quarter Saiyan won't be fazed in the least. Especially since the artificial gravity will be set to twice that on Earth for the Saiyans' pods."

Sighing, Chessa shook her head; Bulma's assurances would have to do. With her long hair braided down her back, the Saiyan woman turned her attention to Celri. It rather amused her that she had escaped the trait of having her hair stand up. Apparently it was more dominant for males than it was for females, but Trunks's appearance startled the other female more for how light his hair and eyes were than that they actually obeyed the basic laws of gravity. Celri's hair had a tendency to only half hang down, sticking out as though it was some sort of couture mess.

The warrior woman apparently felt Chessa's eyes on her, because she turned from watching Bulma with an odd sort of disdainful trepidation to stare down the woman who was carrying the future heir of Vegeta-sai. There was so much conflict in the proud woman's eyes that Chessa could not help but feel a little sympathy for her. Celri had to feel a great deal like Chessa had upon arriving at Capsule Corp.

The fairer Saiyan (apparently her hair was quite light for their race) gave a slight nod, and Celri slipped over, her heavy boots crunching over the gravel. She waited for a moment, and then spoke with diffidence that she obviously had to struggle for. "The Saiyan will change once we arrive on Vegeta-sai," she murmured, obviously worried.

"Inevitably," Chessa agreed softly. "The royal family is returning, and the only one who has ever been to Vegeta-sai is the Saiyan no Ouji himself. His son and heir is half human, and … well, you have been told my tale. However, it might not be as bad as you fear. There is no way that Vegeta will allow anyone to exploit the Saiyans as Freeza did."

"Perhaps," Celri said. "Still, our people are proud, and resist change. Tradition is strong and is important to us."

Chessa nodded, placing one hand on her stomach. It was no longer flat; a slight bump rose away from the hard plain. She wondered for a moment if Celri was trying to warn her that she and her child would be in danger; it was just as likely that the other Saiyan woman was trying to warn her that she should try and reign in Vegeta and Trunks when it came to making change. Either way, what she had said was true - change was inevitable.

"Things might easily become violent," Chessa said, ignoring the feral grin that sprang onto Celri's face at that thought. "As long as you know where your loyalties lie, I do not foresee a problem for you."

"I made my decision," the female Saiyan warrior said gruffly. "Vegeta no Saiyan is obviously the rightful King of all Saiyans." There was a hint of uncertainty as she said that; she had, after all, met Goku. "He will be king," she added more firmly. "King Yukka is strong, but he is not as powerful as Prince Vegeta."

Chessa smiled wryly; trust Saiyans to base everything on strength! It made perfect sense, tough. If they were led by the strongest of them, than they were more likely to survive. Still, it would be best to keep as many of their people as possible out of the fighting … it was so natural for everyone to take sides. The last thing Vegeta-sai needed was for her true king's return to throw the entire planet into war. There had to be some way for them to avoid mass bloodshed. But how?

"Okay, everyone, it's time!" Bulma's decree jostled Chessa out of her thoughts, and the pregnant Saiyan (for some reason it did not seem strange or even ironic that she had gotten pregnant that first night with Trunks) straightened her short, pleated denim jumper over her short sleeved blue leotard and walked up the ramp and into the little spacecraft. She smiled at her mate's mother, but the blue-haired human did not notice; she was turning something with a large wrench. Shaking her head, she went to her seat and buckled herself in.

It was more complicated than everyone else's, which was a little annoying, but necessary. The special harness she was strapped in with was designed especially for her 'delicate condition'. Not that she felt delicate in the slightest, but Vegeta and Trunks had teamed up and overruled her objections.

By the time she was strapped in, so was everyone else. Bulma shut the door, swearing softly under her breath, and making some last adjustments with a different wrench than Chessa had just seen her with. The Saiyan female licked her lips nervously, but everyone else looked pretty secure in Bumla's abilities.

The human finished whatever it was she was doing, then moved into her place across from her son's mate. She buckled in and then flipped open a panel. Chessa caught a glimpse of lights and switches as Bulma worked, and then the spacecraft lifted off. There were no windows, so Chessa could not see out, but before she got too anxious about the trip, she started to feel amazingly tired. She yawned widely, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note**: GOMEN NASAI~! I am so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter done; I was having issues writing pregnant!Chessa, and then I got distracted by real life … so now they are finally leaving Earth, and next chapter they shall arrive at Vegeta-sai. And I'm fine, thank you very much. I got married and have a little boy—maybe it was having a child myself that broke my block for writing Chessa pregnant.


	29. Awakening

**Pacifist**

Chapter 29—Awakening

**Disclaimer**: All characters, locations, and scenarios are the legal and intellectual property of the one who first created them.

**Author's Note:** It occurred to me that I could just be mean and have it all be a dream … and then decided I might get flamed to death if I did that. So. Finishing the story like a good little author.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was the stillness. She could remember, vaguely, that they were supposed to be traveling to Vegeta-sai. Was everything supposed to be so still? And why did everything smell like lavender?

Groggily, Chessa opened her eyes. They were all still strapped in their spaceship, and Saiyans and humans alike were slowly starting to stir. She twitched her nose; the perfumed air was making it itch. She looked around, her vision slightly blurred. Blink. Blink again. There, it was clearing. There was Celri, looking furious. Vegeta, who looked positively normal—which is to say, furious. Hmm, actually it looked like all the Saiyans looked pretty pissed off.

With a sneeze, Chessa glanced at Yuki-chan and Bulma. Both of them looked rather peaceful; Trunks, Goten, and Bra looked less angry than Vegeta and Celri. Hmm, and now that she was waking up, she was starting to feel quite angry herself. Maybe it was something about that weird, lavender-scented stuff …

She sneezed again, and swore loudly. What the HFIL was that stuff? For all that it smelled of lavender, it was the most irritating and infuriating stuff she could imagine! She could hear Trunks growling now, and it was not the sort of growl she was used to hearing out of him.

Bra seemed peaceful, though, and Goten was just plain confused.

Growling, Chessa sneezed again. The growl turned into a cough, and she looked up to see Bulma rapidly working on that same panel she had been fiddling with before. There was a chiming, and some flashing lights, and the horrible lavender fog dissipated. "Sorry, that was supposed to be calming!"

Vegeta (the remark had been directed at him) grunted, looking slightly less angry, though Chessa was not feeling enough calmed to say for certain whether the Prince of all Saiyan's suddenly milder demeanor was a result of the stuff going away or his mate's apology. Ripping the stupid harness away from her body, the pregnant Saiyan stared, eyes wide, at her stomach, which was noticeably larger than she remembered.

Turning furiously towards Bulma, she growled, "How long were we out?"

The blue haired female swore loudly about lavender having the opposite effect on Saiyans, Bulma flipped open another panel and checked the readout. "Two and a half months," she answered promptly.

Chessa's nose flared, her eyes wide, as her hand went instinctively to her stomach. So much time lost; that made her a total of four and a half months along.

For some reason, Vegeta seemed just as alarmed as she was. "Woman! Why didn't you tell us it would take that long?"

"She's still in her second trimester," Bulma quipped, hands going to her hips in what had to be pure reflex by this point.

"Saiyan gestation is six months, fool woman," Vegeta hissed, glancing over Chessa with a sort of possessive concern that further irritated the already aggravated Saiyan female, "and during the final two and a half months the child goes into a growth spurt."

Chessa froze, attempting to process the information that had just been divulged. The first thing to properly register was the fact that she only had a month and a half until delivery, three months sooner than she had expected. Second she realized that she was a month into this fetal growth stage that would prepare her child to enter the world -- and there had been no preparation made for that stage.

Trunks was at his mate's side in the space of a breath, his hand over her stomach, carefully checking what he could tell of the health of their child. Bulma was with her soon after, having produced something that looked like a modified stethoscope with odd dials and a digital read out from somewhere. Chessa willingly allowed the attention that she would have usually been annoyed with, and in a few moments the blue haired human pulled back. "The baby is fine," she said with a relieved smile, and Chessa pulled back to her mate's side, crossing her arms under her bust.

"There is no more time for this," Celri said sharply, looking over in the direction of a city, similar in form to the towns of the Native American Cliff Dwellers. The buildings, just close enough to see, were red and angular, looking as though they had been carved from the stone of the desert world. The sky blended with the desert, another shade of red and housing a huge orange sun.

There was not long to take this in, because the real reason for Celri's attentiveness quickly became apparent. A group of warriors with stiff hair and tails was coming towards them from the city. The five of them were dressed in armor that seemed to be a cruder version of that worn by Vegeta and Celri, and two of them carried short, bladed weapons similar to a half length spear. It seemed it was time for them to make a stand.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Again, it took me forever to get a chapter out. I have good news, though! There are only two more major plot points on my list before this will be finished. ^_^ And, as always, if I have totally messed up canon, ignore it. x_x I'm so out of touch with DBZ canon it's pathetic. Hopefully this won't take too much longer to finish~! 3 And many thanks to Tailweaver of .com for his/her awesome (if still incomplete) "Notes on the Saiyan Race" for pregnancy information!


End file.
